The Fett Dynasty, Episode I: The Devil's Due
by wltdnfaded
Summary: The destiny of the galaxy is set after a night's passion between a bounty hunter and a gentle courtesan. AU, ESB and ROTJ. Adult themes, sexuality. RepostedRe-Edited. Due to renewed interest, I have reposted this piece in a more reader-friendly format.
1. The Devil's Due

DISCLAIMER: I MAKE NO MONEY OFF MY WRITINGS AND ALL CHARACTERS (SANS THOSE OF MY OWN CREATION) BELONG TO GEORGE LUCAS AND LUCASFILM, LTD.

Episode I

Chapter 1

The Devil's Due

_Another day, another two million creds_, the Hunter mused silently.

Lord Vader obviously heard the thought, his black helm turning slightly over his shoulder in Boba Fett's direction. And as it was usually the case regarding Fett, Vader let the silent comment go. The Sith Lord stood in front the massive window of his meditation chamber, gazing into the stars, as he always did when addressing his most trustworthy (if most demanding and petulant) bounty hunter. Fett stood in his usual place, along side the door, just slightly behind the peripheral vision of anyone who may enter. And he stood in his usual position, cradling his rifle closely to his breastplate.

"So two million is satisfactory, bounty hunter?" Vader rumbled softly. 

"Quite satisfactory, Lord Vader", Fett replied cordially, tipping his head forward in his customary bow. Vader turned and faced the bounty hunter, the first time since their conversation commenced. They stood for several moments facing each other, saying nothing. Fett and Vader would often do this during their business meetings, taking time to reflect upon the orders given, the price haggled, and their general opinions of one another.

It was Vader who broke the silence first as he stepped away from the window and stepped up to his meditation cubicle. "Then it is agreed. We will reach the Dia-Orri system within 36 hours. From there you will leave for Tatooine to gather information concerning the last sighting of Han Solo." Vader settled his armored bulk into the chair, from which automated sensors and drones immediately started attaching themselves to the various points necessary.

Vader made it a point not to mentally scan Boba Fett during his visits—Fett was one of the very few in the galaxy for which he had an iota of respect, and hence Vader never felt it necessary to read Fett's mind. But he could not help but feel the wave of annoyance coming from Fett's direction. "There is something not to your liking, Fett?" 

And Fett made it a point never to allow the Dark Lord too close to him, either physically or mentally. That was never good for business. But he had obviously slipped this time. Damn. "My Lord, I do not understand the delay. I would prefer to leave the Executor today on my own power and accord. Respectfully."

"You have something more pressing to attend to, bounty hunter, than my 2 million credits?"

Fett shifted slightly in his armor. He was, after all, still fairly new in Vader's service—this was only his fourth job working for the Sith Lord. And he obviously was still testing Darth Vader's dark waters. He was still developing an approach with Vader, an approach he had never had to take with any of his previous employers. Throughout the entire galaxy, the name Boba Fett was synonymous with terror. Most people never spoke his name above a whisper, as though he would turn the nearest corner at his name's mention. And most employers agreed to any price he demanded, any desire he wished, without argument or haggling. Years of dealing with such sheep had not only made him more arrogant; it made him a legend, a terrifying, sinister legend.

But now, Fett was in the employ of an even more terrifying legend than himself; if most of the populace only whispered Fett's name, these same inhabitants wouldn't even dare to utter the name of Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith. He found himself having to brush up on his manners and decorum. And he hated it. But he liked the money. And he appreciated the freedom the Dark Lord allowed him—Vader never asked questions regarding his methods or means. Until now, that is…

"I meant no disrespect, My Lord Vader", the Hunter stated flatly. "I am merely anxious to begin this assignment. I do not like standing idle for long. It dulls my edge."

Vader allowed himself a scan of Fett, and found no ulterior motives within his statement. Fett indeed was a man of action, and Vader touched only slightly on the rage in Fett's soul, the darkness, the obsession—he needed no more than a glimpse to see that Boba Fett was everything his reputation had made him out to be. He also saw Fett's mental and physical exhaustion; he viewed Fett in his ship many days before, sleeping upright in the pilot seat of the Slave I; he saw the last meal Fett ate, a mere amino packet days earlier. Despite his obvious physical superiority to mere mother-born humans, Fett would need rest before being sent on this assignment. This was the first chapter in the destruction of the Rebellion; a short, seemingly insignificant chapter entailing the capture of a lowly spice smuggler and his return to the wretched Jabba the Hutt. But Vader understood that details which seemed insignificant would often bring down entire empires…No, he needed this breathing living demon sharp, healthy, and rested.

"I understand your desire to proceed, Hunter. I too am most anxious to begin, but all in good time. You will need to be briefed further regarding the details, your ship must be inspected and tuned, and you will need rest, Fett."

_Inspected and tuned, hmm? More like bugged for surveillance_. Fett fought with everything he had to close himself off to Vader. He stood stoic, unmoving and unfeeling, fighting the urge to blast the Sith Lord bastard through that damn window of his! He was insulted, being spoken to as though he were a mere child, and a woman-born child at that…

Vader immediately intercepted Fett's rage. "Fett, do not misunderstand my intentions. As far as your personal well being is concerned, I don't give a damn—once Solo is captured and returned to that disgusting criminal slug on Tatooine, you may do what you like to destroy yourself. But until then, you are in my service and I require you sharp. I do not tolerate mistakes, as you well know." The Sith Lord, nourished by the oxygen drodes implanted within his suit, allowed himself to sit back in his meditation throne. His tone relaxed. "You will reside in the guest quarters. There you will find food, a fresher, drink, all that you may require."

"I require a woman. Will that be provided for me as well?"

Fett couldn't suppress the smirk that crossed his lips under his helm. For the first time, he wished he could actually see Vader's face. Yes, he knew he was testing dark waters again. But if he were to be kept on the Executor at the Empire's expense, against his own personal wishes, and if Vader truly wanted him "sharp"…

Vader sat perfectly still in the silence, his only movement a tapping finger on the arm of his throne. Oh yes, _that_. He was not dealing with Imperial military personnel. Yes, women were kept aboard the Executor for the relief of the higher-ranking officers, but Vader never had to deal with that aspect of military service. And after decades refuting his own desires for flesh, he had forgotten about the intimate world of men and women…and this request annoyed him. He had hoped that Fett was a more like himself; dedicated, driven, not to be bothered with such …bestial frivolity. But if it would make Fett pliable and keep himself from killing the arrogant bounty hunter…it was a trivial request.

"What is your pleasure, Fett?"

With that, Fett relaxed his stance for the first time, lowering the blast rifle from his chest, setting it against his leg, and adjusting his bracers_. Aim high, Hunter, _he thought to himself_. It's on the Emperor's tab._ "Human, purebred. Not too old or too young. Brunette." He looked up in Vader's direction and said with a smile in his voice, "And long on legs and brains."

If Vader could have sighed within his breathing apparatus, he would have. "Agreed, Hunter." The lid of his meditation chamber began its slow descent as he added, "The guards will lead you to your quarters. Expect your guest within 2 hours."

With that, the chamber doors swished open to reveal Fett's stormtrooper escort. Fett once again performed his customary bow, but with more a thankful flourish. He turned and strode out of the chamber, accompanied by the stormtroopers.

Vader's throne turned toward the window as the black shell closed upon him. _Is this what I have become_, he thought, irritated_. A pimp for bounty hunting scum?_ But as with everything, Vader weighed this detestable task against the possible outcome—the capture of Solo, the seduction of Skywalker, the execution of Leia Organa, the absolute destruction of the Rebellion, and his own ascent into the destiny he had created for himself decades before…again, a trivial request.

His finger flicked the console. "Piett!"

The voice of the Admiral answered. "Yes, Lord Vader?"

Vader paused for a brief moment as a notion newly formed in his mind… "I request a service of our current guest aboard ship, Grand Moff Denivrian…"

* * *

I'Lai's effervescent laughter bubbled throughout the dining chamber, tinkling off the crystal chandelier that hung gracefully over their sumptuous table. As many times as she had heard the story the last few days, she never tired when the Grand Moff told of the Imperial Anniversary banquet from which they were returning and how the wife of the Mon Calamari ambassador continuously drank from the finger bowl even after being kindly told not to… several times.

Grand Moff Denivrian sat across from her, drinking in the sweet wine that was her laughter as well as the wine in his cup. His eyes swept over her slender hands and fingers, and wondered exactly when she would no longer be able to lift them due to the weight of the jeweled rings and bracelets he was constantly lavishing upon them…it was his own personal little game, a game he enjoyed greatly.

Denivrian leaned back in his chair, and placed a hand upon the roundness of his protruding belly, filled with rich food and drink. He smiled adoringly at his concubine. "The food is to your liking, precious I'Lai?"

I'Lai glanced up from her plate and returned the smile. "Excellent cuisine, Reynau. I had no idea that a military ship could provide such exquisite faire." She glanced around the chamber, taking in the subtle décor and gentle music. "As well as such a sublime atmosphere." She turned back to her liege, lightly yet purposely fingering the thick red jewel-encrusted neck collar he had given her that very evening. "It's beautiful, Reynau. You have done so much to make this trip…less stressful for me. Thank you, my liege."

He smiled again. "Everything I do, precious, I do for you. I know your fears regarding interstellar travel, so I contacted the Emperor personally and arranged passage on this, the finest ship in all the Empire. What, I would have my darling girl shipped about like some cargo on a third-rate freighter? Especially when I know how space travel frightens her?"

Denivrian reached over the table and took her hand. By the gods, how he adored this woman. From the first moment she arrived at his palace and he gazed upon her, he had been madly, deeply in love with her. She was a mere child at the time, only sixteen years of age, freshly graduated from the Imperial Courtesan Discipline. He remembered how, at the time, the Emperor had opened the books of the Dia-Orri mining operation and was very pleased with what he saw. In addition to the gifts of High Governorship of the entire Dia-Orri system and even greater personal wealth bestowed upon Denivrian, the Emperor gave him one more gift—the most beautiful, highest-ranking and most sought-after courtesan that year's Discipline could provide, I'Lai.

As she settled into her new role as part of Denivrian's harem, he found her to be much more than just beautiful. She proved to be exceptionally intelligent, voraciously reading anything she could find and insatiably curious about Imperial politics and current affairs. She had an exquisite eye for art and décor as well as fashion—he would never leave his palace wearing anything I'Lai did not lay out for him. But mostly, she had a heart. She showed a warmth and compassion never seen in most women of her caste. She treated everyone around her, no matter their class or station in the galaxy, with kindness and respect, even if Denivrian himself did not find them worthy of her very presence. Denivrian remembered how she would simply sit quietly in his private chambers, listening intently as he droned on about such nonsense as shipping snares or slave miner uprisings or camp epidemics or how much he hated his wife. And she would merely laugh when he told her how much his wife hated her.

Thankfully, within two years of I'Lai's service to him and his house, the wretched crone died. Although Grand Moff Denivrian was one of the highest ranking and wealthiest nobles in the Empire, he sadly could not persuade the Emperor to change the law barring aristocracy from marriage to one in the courtesan caste. So he did the next best thing and appointed I'Lai First House Concubine, a position that made her practically his equal regarding palace affairs. When he heard of the discord within the harem regarding his decision and the hostile jealousy of I'Lai that ensued thereafter, he had the harem disbanded.

Here it was, ten years after her first arrival, and he still doted on her like a father Bantha. He showered her with gifts almost every day, and every day she would admonish and scold him for it. Because of her nervousness regarding space travel, I'Lai would accompany him on few diplomatic trips but, when she did, she would travel as his High Consort despite her courtesan caste. 

The short drone of the chamber comlink interrupted Denivrian's daydreaming and the peaceful mood of their dinner. Irritated, he gently broke his grasp on I'Lai's soft hand and hit the link button. "Grand Moff Denivrian here."

"Your Excellency, this is Admiral Piett. I…seek counsel on your private line with you regarding a request from Lord Vader."

Denivrian knit his brow in concern, and glanced at I'Lai, who did the same. Both knew that Lord Vader never requested anything (but rather demanded it), and neither could possibly know what the Sith Lord could want from either of them. Denivrian rarely ever used his private comlink—I'Lai had a say in almost all his personal and business dealings. He hit the com button again. "Is this a matter of grave importance, Admiral, that I must use my private comlink?"

There was a short hesitation before Piett replied. "I cannot go into further details, Your Excellency, while we are on a public channel. If you will, please log on your private comlink."

I'Lai looked down into her plate, picking nervously. Denivrian paused for a brief moment, staring at the comlink, before rising from his chair. He turned to I'Lai. "Precious, do not be nervous. I'm sure it is nothing. His Lordship may merely want to know how we like the accommodations so he can make his report to the Emperor. Please, enjoy your dessert—it's your favorite, Jhing'ca parfait. I ordered it just for you… I will return in just a moment."

Denivrian stepped through the doors of the antechamber, leaving I'Lai alone with the dessert for which she had suddenly lost her taste.

* * *

As the doors to the guest chamber closed with their near silent hiss, Boba Fett stood and surveyed the quarters he had been given. "Lights, twenty percent", he told the computerized room console.

A wall of windows two meters high welcomed his gaze across the chamber. From this view he could see three star nurseries and their surrounding nebulae. He peered to his left—a relaxation area with two sofas, a large stuffed chair, a low table carved from black marble equipped with a holovid, and a matching marble bar against the far end of the windows. He turned to his right. He could see another door, probably to the fresher. In the area directly next to the door laid a huge, pillow-laden bed draped in what appeared to be black Arisand silk. 

As Fett stepped toward the large bed, he reached up and pressed the collar latch to his helmet. Its tiny hydraulic lock opened with a cold whisper, and he pulled it off his head. He removed the protective cloth undermask, all the time never taking his eyes off the bed, _hating _the thing down to his angry dark soul. Fett hadn't slept in a bed in almost twenty years. The pilot seat in the Slave I had been his pillow. There were many things in this galaxy, this universe that sickened Fett but nothing more than things of comfort and convenience. A soft place to lay one's head and body, to drift into a netherworld of dark and warmth, to forget, only if for a while…to dream…

He threw his helmet on the bed in disgust. "And you wonder why I do not sleep, Vader. Dreaming is for the weak, the feeble of heart." He began unlatching the breastplate from the shoulder pads of his armor, turning and heading toward the de-con room, when he stopped and noticed the other thing he hated intensely—a mirror, hanging on the wall next to the exit.

If it had been twenty years since Fett had slept in a bed, it had even been longer since he had looked at his own face in a mirror. From where he stood, he was a good six meters from the thing, so he did not see his visage clearly. For that, he was glad. He purposely stepped around the far parameters of the room on his way to the fresher to avoid the thing.

"These devices of comfort, vanity," Fett rumbled in his throat, setting the helm on the headrest of the large chair and the armor pieces in the seat. "It's a damn wonder the Empire ever came to be with all these distractions."

_And the woman you crave, Fett. Is she not a device for your comfort and vanity?_

Fett had been removing his right bracer when he froze in mid-motion. Slowly, he turned over his shoulder, trying to determine where the voice had come from. He was certain there was no one in the room. Thanks to his genetically altered eyes, Fett could see better in dim light than bright, giving him the precise, deadly vision of a predator.

_Is she not merely a distraction from the torment of your cold black heart? A point of light in your vast well of loneliness and despair?_

Most beings would have run from the room like panicked animals, or torn the place apart looking for the comlink and thought themselves mad when they found nothing. Not Fett. He merely straightened himself, closed his eyes, and answered in his mind.

_Lord Vader. I thank you again for the accommodations, and for your patronage. As for the woman…yes, she is a distraction. From the boredom and restlessness I am forced to endure as we head for the Dia-Orri system. She is for my amusement only. Now if you will excuse me, My Lord…respectfully._

With that, Fett erected a black wall within his mind, threw the last piece of armor into the chair, and stormed into the fresher, thinking how next time he would demand four million credits for his services.

* * *

The creamy layers of red, orange, and white fluff had already melted into each other in the tall glass, and I'Lai idly mixed the colors even more with her spoon. It had been almost a half hour since the Grand Moff went into his private antechamber to speak with Admiral Piett. She smiled almost sadly to herself as she watched the sweet abstracts she created swirl and dance. She had told Denivrian that hyperspace jumps frightened her, which was why she seldom accompanied him on his diplomatic trips. But that was not true…_this_ was why she hated these trips. The politics, the whispers in darkened corridors, the smiling villains at every turn, greeting with one hand and stabbing with the other, the court intrigue breeding with its despicable decadence. I'Lai had no stomach for it despite the fact she had been born, raised, and bred in this particular universe. She was happiest on Orri Prime, continuing the work she had started many years earlier.

I'Lai never liked lying to Reynau. He trusted her with everything, down to the very depths of his soul. And she knew he was in love with her, and she felt sad that she couldn't reciprocate his feelings. She cared deeply for him and did her best to take care of him, but…Reynau was a product of the corrupt Galactic Empire. His treatment of the indentured miners in his system secretly disgusted her and kept her from giving herself completely to him. She never denied him her company in his bed---when asked she came to him willingly and without argument. But that was her duty, plain and simple. However, because of his failing health, the requests had come fewer and more far between as of recent years, and for that I'Lai was secretly glad. Denivrian was more like a doting father to her than a lover, a relationship that suited her just fine.

The antechamber door swished open, and I'Lai looked up to greet her liege with a warm smile. The smile quickly dissipated when she saw the somber, almost angry look in the Grand Moff's eyes. Denivrian walked toward the table and took his seat, never once raising his eyes. I'Lai's eyelids fluttered, and she cleared her throat. "My goodness, " she stated in a falsely jovial tone, "Piett must have asked about the accommodations down to the last detail for you to be gone so long, Reynau." When the Grand Moff remained silent, she repeated, "Reynau…?" 

Denivrian grabbed the napkin off the table, thrust it into his lap, and snatched at his spoon hastily. "Eat your dessert," he barked lowly.

I'Lai dropped the spoon to her plate, sat up on her chair and folded her arms. Her tone was that of an annoyed mother. "Reynau. Will you please tell me what is the matter?"

Denivrian stopped irritably poking at his dessert and set the spoon down. His expression changed from anger to utter despair. He shut his eyes briefly, took a long slow breath, then lifted his gaze to I'Lai and met her eyes. "Your company for the evening has been requested by the Lord Darth Vader."

I'Lai's arms dropped from their folded position as she blankly stared at the Grand Moff. She knitted her brow and for a moment forgot to breathe. "W…What?" she stammered. Denivrian held her stunned gaze for only a second before having to avert his eyes. They both knew what those words meant, for it was a form of polite code known throughout the aristocratic circles of the Empire. 

They meant that I'Lai was to sleep in another man's bed that night.

"Reynau", I'Lai blurted as she fought to catch her breath, "There must be some mistake…I have never been called for before in all the years I have been your concubine. I thought it was understood throughout court that I…was yours only." She blinked back tears, fighting to remain calm and regal. "I do not understand…"

"Nor do I, precious. Nor do I." Denivrian suddenly snapped out of his chair so fast he sent it falling back. He ferociously paced up and down the length of the dining chamber, rubbing his white-hued temples. "I have done Lord Vader no offense to best of my knowledge. Granted, he dislikes me intensely, that I know, but---Vader detests everyone. I can find no reason why he should demand this…horrific, detestable charge of me."

I'Lai said nothing. She simply sat and stared down into the melted parfait. She squeezed her eyes, and felt the warm trickle of a teardrop. She had been foolish to think that this day would never come. The years of comfort and serenity on Orri Prime had given her a false sense of security. The time she and Reynau had spent together in his palace had caused them both to forget that, according to Imperial Law, an aristocrat's courtesan could be called upon by anyone of higher position. Luckily, there were very, very few who ranked higher than Denivrian in the Emperor's circle; in fact, there were only three. But Darth Vader, The Dark Lord of the Sith and the Emperor's second in command was, unfortunately, one of the three. And there was absolutely nothing the Grand Moff could do or say to persuade the Dark Lord. He had to obey.

He turned and gazed upon his precious I'Lai who met his gaze with eyes braised with tears. In the silence, they were both reminded of a harsh, cold fact; that I'Lai, despite her breeding and position, was the product and property of the Galactic Empire. I'Lai was a woman of pleasure. A whore.

"Reynau, is there nothing you can do? Please…I am afraid. I do not want to go…" She turned her head, trying to hide her tears. "Lord Vader frightens me terribly."

Denivrian came around to her chair and fell to his knees in front of her. He took both her hands in his, squeezing them tight. His eyes were sad, imploring, and growing moist. "I'Lai, listen to me. I promise you on my own life that no harm whatsoever will come to you, you have my word." He reached up and touched her face, wiping away her tears. "I…I will do ANYTHING to make this up to you, my precious, darling girl. Anything you want, command it, I'Lai. It is yours without question."

I'Lai's tears stopped. She raised her head to look at Denivrian, her lip still quivering slightly, but she had begun to regain her composure. An idea suddenly crossed her mind, a way to help assuage her humiliation and degradation at this moment and for some good to come from this awful situation…"Anything, Reynau? Anything I desire?"

"Yes, dearest one. Anything you want."

I'Lai leaned into him and murmured, "I want you to build a children's hospital in the mining camp. Complete with a fully trained medical staff."

Denivrian leaned back in surprise. _By the gods I'Lai_, he thought to himself, _you never cease to surprise me after all these years. _He knew of I'Lai's concern for the indentured miners and their families, for what reason he never fully understood. He never considered the miners much more than animals who spoke Imperial vernacular. As for their children, they were useful only if they survived long enough to start working the mines themselves. And the gods themselves knew those damn miners had no problem breeding constantly… But he had made her a promise, and he never broke his promises to I'Lai.

He patted her hand and smiled sadly. "It is done, I'Lai. For you, it is done."

I'Lai relaxed. She reached down and touched Denivrian's face. "Thank you, Reynau. You are so good to me. And I will make you a promise in return. I will go to Vader as an ambassador of the Grand House of Denivrian. I will make you proud of me, Reynau. And when I return…this night will have never happened, understand? We will be happy again. " She took a napkin from the table and daintily dried her eyes. She cleared her throat. "Well then, I suppose I should prepare myself for Lord Vader." She stood up and sighed. "I shall wear my green gown…no, no, the black one. Yes, one should wear black for the Lord of the Sith."

* * *

I'Lai stood in front of the large black door, watching Admiral Piett and his two-man entourage speed down the wide corridor in their roundabout. As they pulled away, she saw Piett turn around. She saw the pity, the concern in his eyes as he looked back at her. He had been so kind to her; when he and his team came to the Grand Moff Denivrian's suite to claim her for the evening, he had kissed her hand and proclaimed, "Lady I'Lai, the stars that surround us could only hope to mimic your luminance. You are truly the brightest, most radiant star in all the galaxy." Although he had sounded quite sincere, she noted a hint of discomfort in his voice. She pitied him this task he obviously had no choice but to perform.

They had ridden through the dark halls of the Executor in silence. With every few meters driven, with every corner they turned, I'Lai fought the urge to jump out of the transport and run back to her suite. But of course she would not do that. It would be…unseemly at best. At worst, it would be an astronomical insult to Lord Vader and could result in…she didn't even want to guess. She thought perhaps she should try to strike up conversation, as was one of her talents and duties as an Imperial courtesan. But she was afraid that if she attempted to speak, she would cry instead…she thought it best just to be silent and hold herself proud as they sped to her destination…

She didn't know quite how long she had been standing there—a few minutes, an hour…? Dozens of technicians, troopers, and various other personnel had passed her, some twice. _I'Lai,_ she scolded herself, _would you just open the door…?_

Her hand shook as she reached up for the console, and her jeweled bracelet tinkled in nervous song. She pressed the button, and the doors swooshed open. She stepped through…

* * *

I'Lai stood in the doorway of the chamber, frozen, barely breathing. The room was quite dark, and she could barely make out the outlines of the furnishings. The chamber was deathly quiet, save for the low hum of the life support systems. She stepped forward to notice a mirror directly to her left. Turning, she gazed into it and nervously pulled the curls framing her face downward despite the fact that she could not see what she was doing very well.

She turned toward the wall of windows. By this time her eyes had started to adjust to the dimness, and she thought she could make out…in the chair…

The round crown of a helmet.

I'Lai could feel her lip tremble and her hands shake. Had he been sitting there the entire time, watching her? She squinted a little, and began to see that the chair's back was to her, as was the helmet.

Her voice sounded like the cry of a newborn bird. "Lord Vader…?"

Silence.

She furrowed her brow when she listened again to the dead clam of the room. Silence, absolute silence. There was no hint of the electronic wheeze of the Sith Lord's respirator mask whatsoever.

I'Lai inched toward the chair slowly yet steadily. As she came up behind the chair, she reached forward to touch the helmet…

It fell off the headrest and clanged noisily into the armor lying in the seat below, then rolled onto the floor. 

I'Lai released a tiny high-pitched scream and jumped back. She held her breath briefly, her fingers covering her mouth as she waited for…she didn't know what she was waiting for. But whatever could be expected at that moment didn't come. The room remained silent. 

She took a long, calming breath deeply through her nose and blew it out her mouth. Straightening up and shaking herself alert, she moved forward to pick up the helmet that had fallen to the floor. But as she lifted it and looked at it carefully for the first time, her breathing stopped again—and so, she feared, would her heart.

Though the room was dim and the finish was faded and chipped, she recognized it as a Mandelorian helm. And she knew of only one man who wore such a helm. She spun around to look at the armor in the chair, and felt as though her legs would buckle from under her. The owner's name rose in her throat, and stopped just shy of her lips.

Boba Fett.

This was the man she was to pleasure this night, not Darth Vader. Slave Trader, Bounty Hunter, Mercenary, Killer For Hire. Devil.

I'Lai's head began to swim, and her eyes darted around the room. As she threw the helm into the chair as though it was burning her hands, she could feel tears swelling in her eyes, and blinked hard to curb their drop_. Get a hold of yourself, woman. Breathe, breathe…_

She heard the barely audible hiss of a door open behind her and saw the sudden shadow she cast on the wall in front of her. For a split second, she saw the red dot of a targeting laser dance off the wall before disappearing behind her shadow and landing, she assumed, on her back. She heard the distinctive hum of a hand blaster powering up and a voice hiss, "Don't move."

_This is all happening too fast, _she screamed silently_. Please, I don't know what to do…_

She then heard a sigh, and the voice again. "Oh…you are the woman Lord Vader has sent me for the evening, I presume?" 

Lord Vader _SENT_ her? It made sense now, and then again no sense at all. Why, in the name of the Emperor, would Vader arrange this liaison with her and Boba Fett, the galaxy's most feared bounty hunter and mercenary? For that question, she had no logical answer. Had Reynau offended the Dark Lord in some way? She couldn't think how, for this had been the first time the Grand Moff had seen Vader in years…By the gods, what sort of sadistic game was Vader playing with them?

In any case, it didn't matter. She was still in a situation in which she had no recourse. And her request would still be fulfilled, that's all that mattered…

I'Lai hastily nodded her affirmation.

She heard the blaster power off, and then the sound of it being chucked across the room, hitting the carpeted floor. The voice offered no apology, but rather said, "You are here. Good. I was growing impatient."

The voice was a low, cold sound of buffed gravel. She swore she could feel it actually brush her neck from across the room. She stiffened up, her back tying itself into knots of adrenaline and terror. 

"Do you have a name, woman?"

"Yes." The words were barely a whisper, but she cleared her throat and pushed on. "My name is…I'Lai, sir."

"I'Lai." He repeated her name with reverence wrapped in a hungry growl. "A lovely name. I take it you know my name, don't you, I'Lai?"

Again, she squeezed her eyes shut. "Yes."

"Are you afraid, I'Lai?"

Her first impulse was to say "No"—but she knew that if she had, something in her body, a hand fidget or a spasm in her neck, would reveal her to be a liar—and the last thing she wanted was to anger him…

"Yes." 

There was a silent pause. Then Fett spoke. "Would you turn around? I cannot see your face." Pause. "Please."

I'Lai turned her head toward the direction of his voice and then, taking another long deep breath, allowed her body to follow suit. She straightened herself, smoothing the front of her gown with her hands, and looked directly in Fett's direction.

She could see nothing but the broad, tall silhouette of a human male leaning against the de-con doorjamb, with his arms folded over his torso.

Fett, thanks to his genetically altered vision, could see far more. And what Fett saw was…perfection.

Now, having spent a vast majority of his jaded career in and around the most despicable and dangerous regions of the Galactic Empire, Fett had learned NOT to be a picky man. Quite frankly, as long as it was a humanoid female with all of her teeth and hair, only two breasts and an odor that was not completely repugnant, Fett could tolerate her for the brief amount of time she was needed to perform her tasks and then get the hell out. So he was not prepared whatsoever for what stood before him…

She was the most stunning woman Fett had ever seen. 

She was quite tall, almost as tall as he. He saw a pale, sweet oval face, and the low light in the room gently kissed her sweeping cheekbones. Glistening black hair was pulled tightly back to the crown of her head and held by a jeweled clasp, which poured an explosion of glossy ringlets back over her bare shoulders and curved back. She wore a black silk gown fastened in the front to the heavy jewel-studded collar adorning her long throat. The dress clung lovingly to the swell of her full teardrop breasts, and continued to caress her slim waist, down over the graceful swell of her belly and finally, the fluid arc of her hips. Her lips were full, the color of an Alderaani rose, and were slightly parted. Her eyes, though frightened, were large and bright, and heavy with the weight of her dense lashes. Her hands were refined as well, with a fortune of jewels studding every long tapered finger and both slender wrists.

For several long, frustrating moments, Fett could not think of a damn thing to say_. By the Slayer_, he thought_, I can even smell her from here_. He never shifted his position however, nor gave the woman any indication that she had had any affect on him whatsoever. He realized that, perhaps, he should take a different approach than was his usual when dealing with women of pleasure…for this was obviously not a typical whore. _Pulling a blaster on her was probably not the best way to begin this evening_, he mused. The thought, however, made him recall the last thing she said, and he decided to reply to it.

"You are afraid of me. Good. You should be." He stepped out of the door toward her. I'Lai felt her lip tremble. She was about to see the unmasked face of the galaxy's most terrifying legend, a face she was sure more dead than living had ever seen. She shut her eyes as he approached closer. She pictured his hands gripping a fistful of her hair, tearing the dress from its collar, throwing her to the bed, or even the floor…

She did indeed feel his hand—in hers. She opened her eyes to see Boba Fett lift her hand to his bowed head.

"But it is my sincerest hope, Lady, that you will no longer feel that way by the morning." With that, he turned her hand over and brushed her palm with his lips, never once averting his eyes from hers. I'Lai stared into those eyes and was lost in a stunned eon of a moment.

He raised himself and stood before her, never releasing her hand, actually allowing her to see his face. Narrow serpentine black eyes coldly glowered out from under a strong brow, a brow that hosted a thick scar that continued down over the bridge of a prominent nose that had obviously been broken more than once. Another scar outlined the left cheekbone, traveling along the jaw and under his square chin. His lip as well was scarred, seeming to have been split many years before. His hair was dark chestnut, cut in traditional spiked military crop. I'Lai found his face harsh, severe, and battered…and yet not unattractive. She found herself a little less afraid.

Her eyes fluttered downward and realized Fett was shirtless, wearing loose trousers. She scanned his neck and wide shoulders that, had they not also sported scars of long passed combat, would have seemed struck from flesh-hued stone. She felt her eyes drop further, surveying his chest down his carved torso before snapping her eyes shut and fighting the blush and its heat that currently spread across her face. She breathed in his scent, clean and hot from the fresher with just an intimation of masculine musk. _That scent…I don't recall Reynau ever_…Then she remembered where she was and whom she was with. The terror returned.

I'Lai straightened herself as best she could and said in the most stately manner she could muster, "Then I thank you, Master Fett, for your gracious hospitality this evening." She tried to sound sincere, but she wasn't sure if she succeeded.

Fett, still holding I'Lai's hand, led her to the sofa area. "Sit, be comfortable." He assisted her into her seat, then let go her hand and grabbed a battered satchel off the chair. He strode to the bar and, ignoring the numerous ornate bottles displayed there, pulled a flask from the satchel and poured the contents into a glass. She watched him move, noting how he never make a sound. It seemed as though his feet never touched the floor. He was quick, smooth, silent. He moved like a predator.

He reached and touched a button on the bar. Low music emanated from unseen speakers. He turned and stepped toward her. "I do not like music, but I thought perhaps you may." He stood before her and extended the glass. "Drink."

I'Lai cleared her throat, unconsciously touching her jeweled collar. "Thank you, Master Fett, but I do not drink…"

"Drink," Fett repeated, and not kindly. I'Lai looked up at him with wide eyes. Fett lowered his lids slightly and added, "It is not liquor. It will help you to… relax." He softened his tone. "Please."

I'Lai hesitated briefly, then took the glass and raised it to her lips. She took a small sip. The liquid was warm, and she could actually feel it slide down her throat. She suddenly had the sensation that the warm liquid began flowing through her veins, her muscles, her thoughts…She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and she felt her entire body bloom into a blossom of warmth and serenity.

She lazily opened her eyes and looked at Fett. "Am I drugged?"

Fett's mouth lifted slightly at the corner as he reached down and took the glass from her hand. "It is a mild tranq. It's harmless. You have complete control of your faculties, do not fear." He stepped back to the bar, set the glass down, and folded his thick arms over his chest. "I am interested in knowing more about you, I'Lai. Your garb suggests that you may be aristocracy. Are you?"

I'Lai uttered a small, bubbly laugh in spite of herself and her situation. "No, Master Fett. I am not. I am of the…courtesan caste."

Fett tilted his head back slightly. "Ah, I see. And tell me, " he continued, "What sort of payment will you receive for your service this evening? I hope it will be a substantial sum."

I'Lai shot her glare at Fett, and narrowed her eyes. Perhaps it was the substance he had given her that allowed this switch from fear to pride. Or perhaps it was because I'Lai had not been addressed as a whore for lo these many years. Her voice was steady and regal as she replied, "A children's infirmary will be built in the indentured mining camps on my homeworld of Orri Prime. That is the only payment I requested for this evening."

Fett furrowed his brow. "Excuse me?"

I'Lai straightened herself tall in her seat, elongating her neck and holding her head proud. She glared directly into the bounty hunter's eyes as she stated, "I am the Lady I'Lai, High Consort of the Grand Moff Denivrian of the Dia-Orri system. I am fortunate that I will never want for anything for the rest of my life. I will always have food on my table, clothes on my back, shelter over my head, and medicine to keep me healthy. The slave miners of Orri Prime and their children are not as fortunate as I am. So I use my position and means to help them as best I can. That is why I am here with you now, Master Fett. Not for my own gains, but for theirs."

A long silence ensued. Fett and I'Lai stared at each other waiting for…neither was sure what. I'Lai's heart pounded in her breast, and she knew she was trembling, but she never lowered her gaze. Fett felt the familiar urge to step forward and backhand her across the face, as he would with any other whore who got out of line. But then he remembered he did not hire her. And now that he knew she was a Grand Moff's concubine, he would have to watch his manners… He couldn't help but wonder what the Grand Moff had done to so offend Darth Vader that the Sith Lord would hand his concubine over to a bounty hunter for a night's pleasure…

Finally, Fett broke the silence. "These miners of yours—you care for them? Tell me about them." 

I'Lai relaxed her shoulders and finally took a breath. She had a feeling that this was Boba Fett's way of apologizing. The wave of warmth washed over her again. She tilted her head slightly and asked, "Do you really want to know?"

There was the hint of severe humor in Fett's voice. "Your caste is trained in the art of conversation, correct? Converse with me."

"Then please, sir, sit. I find it difficult to relax when you stand over me like that."

Fett seemed to hesitate, eyeing the adjacent sofa with disdain. I'Lai motioned toward the couch. "It would please me if you would relax as well."

He walked over to the far end of the sofa and lowered himself into it. He seemed oddly stiff, as though the cushions' softness were offensive to him.

I'Lai cleared her throat and began to speak. She told the bounty hunter of her arrangements with the dock captain to smuggle in supplies, and how she paid for those supplies by trading the gifts Denivrian lavished upon her daily. She told of her secret early morning trips into the camps, her mount loaded with satchels stuffed with food, blankets, medicine and other supplies needed. She told how she would bribe the manor doctor to go and tend the injured miners and their sick families. She told how she helped deliver the baby of a miner who had died in an accident the day before. She told him the stories of the misery, the despair, but also of the great love, camaraderie, and friendship these people had for each other…

I'Lai realized she had no idea how long she had been talking. At one point, she turned to Fett to see his face. He sat motionless, but he had at least allowed the sofa's comfort to pull him back. She noticed for the first time the exhaustion in his face, but she also noticed his expression had…softened as he listened to her. He seemed relaxed, almost comfortable. He had never taken his eyes off her for a moment. 

I'Lai lowered her gaze. "I'm sure you find this all quite boring."

"I never find dedication or passion boring, Lady. We see so little of either in this universe." 

She looked at him again, furrowing her brow. "You confound me, Master Fett. You…are not what I expected." She laughed at her little inside joke—she hadn't expected him at ALL. Her head felt swimmy, and she idly played with a tendril of hair that laced her delicate ear.

Fett allowed a slight smile. I'Lai found it…appealing. "You are not what I expected either, Lady I'Lai."

"May I ask you something, Master Fett?"

Fett paused, then nodded his permission.

"Have you killed as many people as they say?"

She immediately knew asking that question was a huge mistake, and she silently cursed herself for allowing the tranquilizer to perform so well. She saw Fett's expression darken, and his eyes slit. As he leaned forward, she instinctively leaned back and lowered her eyes to her lap. "And just who are _they_, Lady I'Lai?"

I'Lai's breathing became shortened and erratic. "The…stories. About you, your…work. I would hear the smugglers at the dock port speak your name in fear, as do the nobles in court." She glanced up at him briefly, then down again. "I just…do not see that person sitting with me now. You have treated me…with nothing but respect and hospitality."

Fett paused for a moment, and then stated, "You cannot believe everything, Lady I'Lai. Unless, of course, THEY say it. Then it is true."

I'Lai fluttered her lashes in confusion. "I'm…sorry, I do not understand…"

"What you see sitting here before you—THIS is the lie. Everything you have heard about me—THAT is fact." Before I'Lai realized what was happening, Fett snapped out of his seat and, in his silent, swift predator manner, leapt at her, pinning her to the sofa, both hands placed on the head rest, trapping her head on either side. He held his face mere centimeters from hers so she could see nothing but those eyes of black flame. She inhaled every word he hissed. 

"I have torched entire settlements to smoke out one bounty," Fett spat. "I have killed men in their beds and sold their wives and children into slavery within that same hour. If the purse were fat enough, I would think nothing of cutting the throats of your precious miners and relishing the screams of their snotty brats! I take what I want when I want by any means I deem fit, and I feel nothing. _NOTHING!" _

Fett grabbed her jaw and drew her face even closer. "The reason I treat you with any shred of respect is quite simple, Lady. I am weary, and I would rather you come to my bed willingly than having to take you in the manner I am accustomed. I would rather you fuck me than fight me—for if you fight me, I will hurt you, and that would be not be easy to explain to your precious Grand Moff!"

I'Lai did not breathe, did not even blink. She remained deathly still and simply stared into Fett's eyes. And what she saw in those eyes caused her own to well with tears. 

She may as well have been staring into the eyes of one of the orphaned children in the mining camp. The despair, the pain, the unyielding rage of his soul broke through the armored defense of his scarred brow. She saw the eyes of a child who had never known love or a mother's caress; who had to fight, steal, and kill to survive; who had lost all hope in himself and in a universe in which he was forced to exist. She saw a man who was forced to live in the prison of his actions and his own terrible reputation. She saw the face of loneliness. I'Lai's terror ebbed away as she felt her heart break.

Boba Fett stopped, squeezed his eyes closed and released I'Lai's chin. It all became clear to him now. He now understood why Vader had sent this particular woman to his quarters. Vader was playing a game, a game that would leave Fett humiliated and embarrassed.

Vader could have easily just had one of the galley prostitutes sent to him, for that was what Fett had been expecting. But instead, he sent this—a woman of extreme refinement, of delicate manner, of unsurpassed beauty and keen intelligence. But moreover, she was the gentlest and kindest creature Boba Fett had ever encountered, selfless, courageous. He remembered the voice and its words that had violated his mind earlier…

_Is the woman you request not merely a distraction from the torment of your cold black heart? A point of light in your vast well of loneliness and despair?_

Vader had sent him a reminder of what Fett could only dream about ever having---warmth, humanity, and unconditional love. Vader had sent The Devil…an angel.

_Goddamn you, you twisted son of a bitch_, Fett growled in his mind_. I hope you burn in the dimensional hells for eternity._

He stood up. I'Lai still stared into his eyes. Fett turned away, stormed to the bar and slammed his hand onto the speaker button. The hushed, gentle music abruptly stopped. He grabbed a tall bottle off the bar, uncorked it, and brought it to his lips, swigging its contents down in heavy gulps. Setting it down, he walked toward the vast windows, set his hands upon the low sill and looked out. A long still silence hung in the room, weighing on them both.

"Lady", Fett finally uttered, still gazing at the nurseries of stars displayed light years before him. "I…have frightened you. That was not my intention for this evening. I am…sorry." He paused. "If you please, you have my permission to go. I will inform Lord Vader that your services were satisfactory." He paused, and with a taste of bitter humor in his voice, he added, "I am not good with women."

I'Lai slowly rose from her seat. She walked quietly, slowly toward Fett until she was standing beside him. Placing her hands on the sill as well, she cleared her throat, a tiny idiosyncrasy that Fett was beginning to find not unpleasant. In a soft yet clear tone, she replied, "No, Master Fett. It is I who should apologize to you. I overstepped my bounds in asking such a question. We were having a…nice conversation, and I spoiled it. I have upset and insulted you, and for that I humbly and most sincerely apologize." She turned her head, lifted her eyes to his face. "If you want me to go, I will. But if you would, I would like to continue our conversation. I do not wish to leave." 

Fett turned. I'Lai was standing closer to him than she had all evening. His eyes swept from the creamy knoll of her shoulder up the jeweled collar adoring her neck to finally settle on the tiny curl of a tendril nestled between her ear and cheekbone. The light floral scent of lilac emanated from her raven curls. As he met her eyes, he found that, for the first time that evening, there was no fear, no terror residing in them. They were wide, sparkling teal stars.

It was Fett who cleared his throat this time. "Perhaps…you want to drink from your glass again."

I'Lai's lips curved up in a tiny smile, and her lids dropped. "No, thank you, Master Fett. I do not need it."

Fett felt his ire rising again, but not for I'Lai. He felt…strange. He felt awkward. He wanted to tell her something…Damn it, just say it…

"Lady", he blurted, almost inaudibly, "Do not fear me tonight. If you so wish, be afraid tomorrow. But not tonight, not now."

It was at that moment that I'Lai dropped all her defenses of decorum and refinement. She reached up and gingerly touched the scar on Fett's cheek. Fett instinctively flinched, but I'Lai's eyes told him to hold. She ran her slim jeweled finger down the scar to his chin and then, without warning, she slipped her other hand behind his head and crushed her lips against his in a passionate, almost savage kiss.

Fett, probably for the first time in his life, was actually taken aback by a woman. Once again, he was not prepared for her or this lusty attack_. I'Lai_, he thought_, do you ever cease to surprise?_ But the heat of her lips, the warmth of her hand mixed with cold touch of her gemmed bracer, the scent of her hair and feel of her skin soon overpowered his surprise. He in turn slid his calloused hand through the ebon tangle of her ringlets and gripped her head, pulling her further into the kiss. He released his tongue and found it met by hers without shame or hesitation. He began to fully experience the benefits of her courtesan training, for her tongue moved like a slow, heated dancer along his teeth, his lips. 

As I'Lai's arms wrapped themselves around his neck, he slid his free hand down her back, seizing the round perfection of her buttock and then, bending slightly, gripped her thighs and lifted her from the floor, greedily pulling her against him. He broke the kiss and lifted her entire body until his mouth found her breast, devouring the swell of it through the silk of her gown, his teeth pulling at the fabric and the nipple alike.

I'Lai arced back her head and let out a high, rough cry. She was amazed by his strength, his power—he lifted her as though she were a bauble. Her muscles tensed and she felt the heat rise from her body to mix with his. Before she knew it, she had freed a leg from his grip and clenched its length around his waist, freeing her breast from his mouth and replacing it with hers once more. Soon, the natural rhythm of human desire caused her to grind against his pelvis and feel his immediate response. Tearing her mouth from his, she held his head in her hands and leaned into his ear, panting and silently growling one word…

"Hunter…"

Once again, Fett grabbed her hair and pulled her eyes to his. I'Lai's eyes were no longer wide, no longer innocent. They were narrow, hungry slits of green fire. Her lip was curled into a snarl of feline heat. A tiny rivulet of sweat trickled down her face, and several ringlets of her black hair had freed themselves from their jeweled snare. She panted against him, and he drank in her breath. Gone was the refined lady, the aristocratic concubine. Fett held in his arms a breathless, hungry female animal. 

He wanted to take her right there, up against the window…but he decided against it_. No_, he thought_, she is not accustomed to… someone like me. She deserves to be comfortable._ The bed, its softness so repugnant to him before, no longer seemed so offensive. With I'Lai still in his arms and holding his gaze, he carried her across the room. In one swift, smooth move, Fett laid her upon the bed and lifted the hem of her gown…before I'Lai knew what was happening, she felt his tongue run up along her inner thigh…and he began feasting on the delicate folds his tongue had been seeking …

I'Lai gasped with a mix of alarm and intense need. Fett answered her gasp by wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her even further into his mouth. His free hand traveled up the silk landscape of her gown and, reaching the clasp at her throat, unlatched the fabric from her collar. As his hand traveled down, he pulled the silk with it, his hand cupping the firm mound of her breast, pinching the nipple between his fingers. I'Lai writhed and slid her leg around his neck, arcing her back and emitting sharp, soft cries. She felt tears welling again in her eyes. She knew she should not be enjoying this—this man was a killer, a bounty hunter…but as he continued to relentlessly devour her essence, as she felt her entire body tense and contract… she no longer cared.

I'Lai's jeweled hands grabbed fistfuls of the black silk sheets as her body arced violently, her head tilted back, and she let out a scream of pure animal lust. Wave after wave of chilled heat washed through her limbs, her torso, her mind, her soul…until she felt herself drift back down into the slick feel of the silk bed. She panted wildly, trying to catch her breath, and as she did, she found herself sobbing.

She opened her eyes to see Fett bent over her. He actually looked concerned. "I'Lai, I've hurt you…?" he whispered, his hand still resting on her breast. 

I'Lai smiled through her tears. "No, no, you haven't at all…I…" She found she had no words. 

Boba Fett's eyes swept over her half-clothed body. He pulled his hand from her breast, running his touch over her smooth belly, over her hip to once again grip the flesh of her buttock. He gingerly unlatched the jeweled clasp from her hair. He bent over her and kissed her again, enveloping her entire mouth. I'Lai found herself aroused again when she tasted her own juices mixed in his kiss…Her hand slid down his body now, and slipped it between the waistband of his trousers and his hard abdomen. When she heard Fett take a sharp breath and felt his body jerk, she broke the kiss and allowed her lips to travel down his torso, her hands easing the trousers down. She drank in the scent of his musk and, unashamed, took him into her mouth.

Fett tried to remain still and stoic and show no response---but to no avail. He had heard third and fourth hand stories regarding Imperial courtesans and their outstanding skills for pleasure; and like most things belched out in drunken stupidity in some backwater shithole outpost, he never believed them. But again, as seemed the case with this amazing woman, he was not prepared for her…

She was doing far more than just pleasuring him—she was worshipping him. Her tongue and lips teased and tugged and caressed every inch of his flesh, her hands stroking his inner thighs and regions most women never dared touch him before…she moaned softly, relaying to him that she enjoyed this as much as he…

Fett snapped up, unable to hold himself any longer. He ferociously grabbed I'Lai by the shoulders and pulled her up to his face, then rolled her to her back, pressing his weight onto her. She lay beneath him, her lips wet and her eyes sparkling, her curls surrounding her like a raven nebula. 

"I'Lai," he hoarsely breathed, "Shall I take you now?"

I'Lai's lids fluttered, and her hands slid down his powerful back to rest just above his buttocks. As she wrapped her long legs around his waist, she whispered, "Yes..."

With that, he once again cradled her head in his hand and plunged into her; he had wanted to be gentle, but his extreme need for her had overpowered his conscious intentions. I'Lai cried out, but when he looked into her eyes, he saw no pain, no fear. Just the face of the most beautiful woman he had ever experienced in the intense heat of animal pleasure…

I'Lai followed his rhythm, enveloping him to his fullest hilt. She felt the sweet tension once again build throughout her body, and the touch of his lips on her neck and his hoarse whispers of "I'Lai…I'Lai" in her ear only drove her fervor further as he thrust into her, again and again…

As she began to feel the wave of chilled heat break itself against her once more, Fett once again astonished her with his strength. In one fluid motion he pulled her and himself up to rest on his knees, his arms wrapped around her waist. As I'Lai threw her entire body back into an arch and cried out, Fett threw back his head and joined her in that netherworld of physical bliss…

I'Lai panted as she straightened herself up. She opened her eyes and saw Fett returning her gaze, also breathless and glistening with sweat. She sat with him still buried within her, and for several moments they said nothing…and everything…

Fett and I'Lai would mate three more times that night before both finally succumbed to the plush invitation the bed extended. I'Lai lay on her stomach with Boba Fett resting on her back, his head nestled in the thick pillow of her black curls. He still lay inside her as he felt the beckon of sleep, the first in days…weeks? He was no longer sure.

He breathed in the lilac scent of her hair once again, and whispered, "I'Lai…if a man had you in his arms every time he rested his head, he would no longer dread his dreams…"

I'Lai lay still and said nothing. She could tell from his breathing he was falling asleep, and she closed her eyes and mimicked its rhythm, feeling herself falling as well when she heard him say, almost inaudibly…

"Please…do not do this to me…"

Before I'Lai could respond, Boba Fett had drifted off into sleep.

Chapter 4

The natural light simulator began its low hum, and the light in the chamber crept brighter by every passing second, indicating early morning. Boba Fett sat on the edge of the bed, fully clad in his Mandelorian armor save for one glove. His ungloved hand held a lock of the sleeping I'Lai's hair, and he rubbed its silk between his thumb and forefinger. He carefully placed the lock back amongst the ebon jungle of her black curls and raised his hand to her face. Keeping his fingers a mere hair's breadth from her skin, he traced the arc of her brows, the sweep of her cheekbone, the full curve of her lips, the round flawlessness of her exposed breast.

He continued to watch her still form through the dark visor of his helm. After several minutes, he reached up to the side of his helm and flicked a tiny switch. Standing slowly as not to disturb her, he silently crossed the room and picked up the satchel, his blaster. Without turning toward her again, Boba Fett, in his silent predator manner, strode through the door.

* * *

With a long deep breath, I'Lai opened her eyes. Staring momentarily to the ceiling, she turned her resting head to the other side of the silk laden bed. It was empty.

She slowly raised herself to one elbow and drowsily scanned the chamber. As her eyes adjusted to the artificial light of natural morning, she noted her gown, shoes, and jewelry had been folded and placed neatly upon the seat of the large chair. But there were no signs of the Mandelorian armor or its owner anywhere.

She sat up, holding the sheets to her breast, listening to the cold silence of the room. She pulled her legs up and bowed her head, resting it on her knees, and her eyes attempted to squeezed back her tears. The thought echoed through her mind, over and over…

She would never see him again.

Her head snapped up at the loud interruption of the entry buzzer. Pulling the sheet around her, she stepped to the floor and made her way to the door, pressing the entry button.

Admiral Piett and two stormtroopers stood in the entryway.

"My Lady. I have come to escort you back to your suite", Piett announced. When Piett saw I'Lai wearing nothing but a sheet she held to her breast, she saw the red hue of his blush start from the stiff collar of his uniform spread up to his face. He abruptly turned and snapped his fingers at one of the troopers, who handed him a folded pile of fabrics. "His Excellency bade us to bring you fresh clothes for the morning, and stated that breakfast is waiting and he is eagerly awaiting your return."

"I thank you humbly for your kindness, Admiral", I'Lai replied in turn. She paused before adding, "Admiral, may I speak to you for a moment? In private?" She turned and walked toward the wall of windows, the sheet dropped low upon her hips and her hair spilling down her back.

Admiral Piett tried to clear the discomfort from his throat as he stepped forward. He heard a low electronic chuckle behind him, and turned around. "Show some respect, you bastards!" he spat in a hoarse whisper. The stormtroopers fell silent.

I'Lai stood in front of the huge windows, framed by the passing stars streaking by. Piett stepped into the room and stood just in front of the doors, still holding the clothes he had brought for her.

After a long silent pause, I'Lai finally spoke. "He's gone, isn't he?"

Piett took in a long breath and let it out in a sigh. "Yes, madam. An hour ago. He left without clearance, injuring two of my technicians in the process." He cleared his throat again, then added, "Lord Vader is not pleased."

Piett heard a bitter laugh quietly erupt from I'Lai's throat. She turned her head over her shoulder and said in a disgusted growl, "Ah, yes, Lord Vader…we don't want to upset Lord Vader now, do we?" She turned completely around to see the stunned look on Piett's face. She knew it would be wise to share Piett's terror of Darth Vader, but I'Lai found she no longer feared the Lord of the Sith. Not anymore.

"Admiral…did you know about this arrangement when you brought me here last night?"

The Admiral straightened himself up and met I'Lai's eyes. He now completely understood why the Lady I'Lai seemed irresistible to everyone she encountered. It was not just her beauty and manners—it was her innocence, her honesty, her courage that drew people to her. She seemed to be a magnet that pulled at a man's very soul. He couldn't bring himself to lie to her. 

"Yes, Madam. I was commanded to secrecy by Lord Vader."

I'Lai took a long breath. Still staring into Piett's eyes, she asked, quietly and simply, "Why did he do this?"

"I…I do not know why, Madam." There was a pause before Piett asked, "Madam, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Admiral."

"Are you…all right?"

I'Lai's mouth curved into a soft smile as she walked toward Admiral Piett. Still holding the sheet to her breasts with one hand, she gently laid her other on the Admiral's arm. "I'm fine, Admiral. I'm…fine."

* * *

Boba Fett had finished punching in the Tatooine coordinates into the navigational console. As he pulled his hand back, he noticed the stiffness that had developed in his shoulder. Annoyed, he rolled his shoulder back and forth within the socket, trying to loosen it. He had obviously pulled a tendon when he threw the dock technician who was trying to stop his departure off the roof of his ship by the hair…

The vastness of space spread out before him, silent and cold. It would be several hours before he would reach the proper coordinates for his jump to hyperspace. He stared out into the void momentarily, then reached up and clicked the switch on the side of his helmet again. Within the screen of his visor, a tiny three-dimensional holographic image flickered into clarity. Fett leaned back in his pilot's seat and, once again, watched the Lady I'Lai in dreamful slumber against a bed of stars…

* * *

"I'm FINE!" I'Lai snapped as the medical droid pushed her once again into the pillows of her massive fur-strewn bed. She huffed and folded her arms over her breast. "My word, everyone is making a horrible fuss over a little dizzy spell."

The droid's gears whirred quietly as it turned its head toward I'Lai. "Your Ladyship, it was a bit more than a dizzy spell. You lost consciousness atop your mount and fell off in the middle of the camp square. Three miners had to catch you." The droid turned toward the small table next to the bed and grasped a glass of water with its gripping appendage. It handed the water to I'Lai, who, pouting, hastily took it and drank it down. "Maybe this will teach you to slow down a bit, madam. You take on too much, running the manor and mining operation in the Grand Moff's absence AND overseeing the construction of the new hospital. You have associates to do this type of work. I suggest you use them. And I've heard around the manor that you haven't been sleeping and seem distracted."

I'Lai smiled a tight sarcastic smile and retorted, "You're right, Ten-C-Four. I am a little tired, and hence I became a little dizzy. And now that I have had some rest here, I feel quite well and ready to prepare the household for Master Denivrian's homecoming this evening…" She tried to bolt up from the bed only to have Ten-C-Four's appendage push her down again and hold her there.

"Doctor's orders, Madam. You must rest until the doctor comes back with his test results." The droid noticed the fuming green slits I'Lai's eyes had become and added, "And angry looks do not work on me, Madam."

At that moment, Dr. Him'bron entered the bedchamber, carrying a small medi-console in his hand. I'Lai breathed a sign of relief. "Oh good, Doctor, you're back. Will you kindly inform my mechanical nursemaid here that I am absolutely fine and ready to assume my duties?"

The doctor sat on the edge of the bed, waving the medi-droid away. A warm, fatherly smile spread across his face as he stated, "Oh, Lady I'Lai, I would say that you are more than fine. In fact, His Excellency may call for a month's celebration when he sees the results of your tests."

I'Lai furrowed her brow. "And why would he do that, Dr. Him'bron? I do not understand."

Him'bron reached over and took her hand, beaming like a child about to open a long-awaited gift.

"You are pregnant, Lady I'Lai. With a son."


	2. Ill Met By Moonlight

DISCLAIMER: I MAKE NO MONEY OFF MY WRITINGS AND ALL CHARACTERS (SANS THOSE OF MY OWN CREATION) BELONG TO GEORGE LUCAS AND LUCASFILM, LTD.

Episode I

Chapter 2

Ill Met By Moonlight

I'Lai stood in the grand gardens of Denivrian's palace. The boughs of the trees were weighed so heavily with their ripe fruit they seemed they would break any moment. They did not, but rather swayed in the breeze as though they were dancing to the song the wind sang through the leaves. I'Lai's hands instinctively moved over the slight swell of her belly, caressing the new life growing within. She leaned her head back and breathed in the scent of the garden with its fruit and monstrous flora, her skin embracing the rays of Orri Prime's blue sun, as though she were sending these sensations down to the cradle of her unborn son…

"I'Lai…? I'Lai…?

Her head snapped over her shoulder. The voice came from just beyond the mesh of trees behind the garden wall, calling to her from what seemed to be a near distance. She knew the voice, recognizing its low husky timbre from the last time she heard it, passionately breathed into her ear…

"Boba…?" I'Lai staggered toward the wall, her eyes frantically searching the woods. The blue rays of the sun cut through the leaves and limbs, but with every gust of breeze, the trees grew larger, thicker, denser, blocking the light. She strained her eyes in the ensuing darkness until she saw a figure trying to emerge from the enlarging woods. The little light left in the garden glinted off the visor of the figure's Mandelorian helm as he battled through the branches that were trying to ensnare his armored arms and legs. With a violent jerk, he freed his arm from the last vine and scaled over the wall, landing on both feet without a sound on the garden's cobble bottom. 

The armored figure turned and stood facing I'Lai, reaching to her with both arms. "I'Lai…I've missed you."

"Boba!" I'Lai cried as she ran to the Fett. His arms encircled her as she fell against him, wrapping her own arms around his plated torso. She began sobbing against his chest. "Boba… Rhi'a'jzand, I thought I'd never see you again."

"I'Lai." His voice was a metallic whisper through the helmet. "I couldn't stay away any longer…not after I heard what happened." He broke the embrace to place a gloved hand on I'Lai's belly. "Ours, I'Lai?"

I'Lai smiled through her tears. "Yes, Boba. Yours and mine, our son…" She threw her arms around him once more, burying her head in the crook of his shoulder. "Boba, please, don't leave us again. I need you terribly right now…I'm so alone, and I'm so scared…"

I'Lai felt his arm encircle her again as he wrapped his cape around her head and shoulders. She listened to his breathing as he said, "Do not fear, I'Lai. I am with you, and you are mine now…" 

But the voice had changed, growing deeper, darker, and his breathing was becoming heavy and labored. The hand resting on her belly began pushing into her until I'Lai cried out, "Boba, please… you're hurting the baby!"

She opened her eyes but could see nothing, and the warmth of his body had turned ice cold. His cape enveloped her down to her feet, binding her to him, and his breathing had turned into the harsh electronic wheeze of a respirator. She frantically fought to break the embrace, and finally was able to free her head and look up to see the terrifying black skull mask of Darth Vader looking down at her. 

She found herself choking on the toxic fumes that emanated from the mask as the Dark Lord of the Sith roared, _"I'M NOT THROUGH WITH YOU YET, WOMAN-CHILD!"_

I'Lai's screams mixed with Vader's hideous laughter as she thrashed against him. His arms locked around her like a vice, and the black cape entwined itself around her arms and legs, pulling her into his armor, into his very body. She tried to push herself off him, but as she tried, her hands sank into the Dark Lord's armor right up to her elbows. She threw back her head to see the fruit on the trees rotting and falling to the ground in nauseating thumps, the flowers wilting within themselves and dying, the trees' branches overtaking the entire garden and blotting out the sky. She was asphyxiated by the stench of decay and death surrounding her. She looked again at Vader, and could see the eyes through the black opaque lenses of his mask—they were the terrifying diseased red-yellow eyes of the Emperor staring back, with Vader laughing, his hand piercing through and sinking deeper into her pregnant belly…

"NO! NO! NOOOOOOO….!"

* * *

I'Lai's blood-curdling screams ricocheted off the walls of her bedchamber and the adjacent corridors as she bolted upright in her bed. Still screaming, she leapt from the bed and ran to the huge glass doors overlooking the garden, ripping the curtains open. Her screams only ceased when she saw snow lying upon the cobblestone grounds and marble statues. The only sound she heard was the wind blowing across the garden stones. The sun was just coming over the tops of the barren trees. In the waking world, it was dawn in the still winter on Orri Prime.

I'Lai leaned against the glass of the window, sinking to her knees, sobbing violently. The corridors echoed with the sound of footsteps running toward her chamber doors. A woman's voice could be heard calling, "Lady I'Lai! Lady I'Lai!"

The doors opened, and Nikoa burst in. She stopped in the middle of the vast chamber to see I'Lai crumpled against the glass, crying uncontrollably, her thin nightgown pasted to her sweat-soaked body. Nikoa moved toward her, dropping to her knees and taking I'Lai in her arms. "Your Ladyship, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Nikoa," I'Lai sobbed, clinging to her lady's maid, "It happened again…only it was much, much worse this time…" Her entire body wracked with the intensity of her sobs.

"Another nightmare?" 

I'Lai nodded. Trying to calm herself, she took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. "Nikoa…they come every night…I haven't slept in weeks…" She turned to her maid, her eyes red and swollen, her face streaked with tears. "Nikoa…I feel like I'm losing my mind. Am I going mad?"

Nikoa wrapped her arms around I'Lai, hugging her to her breast. "No, your Ladyship, you are not going mad. It is the pregnancy, pure and simple." She helped I'Lai to her feet, walking her back toward the huge bed. "Your body is going through many changes right now, Madam. These changes can affect everything, including your dreams. I know, believe me—I've gone through this seven times. The nightmares will subside, do not worry." She assisted I'Lai back into the bed's luxurious comfort, still holding her hand.

I'Lai lay back, resting her head upon the pillows. "Nikoa…I refuse to believe that anything as joyous as carrying this child could result in such…horrible visions." She closed her eyes as she sighed, "You simply do not know what I see every night."

"How can I possibly know, Madam", Nikoa retorted gently, "When you do not tell me?" I'Lai said nothing. After a slight pause, Nikoa decided to finally broach the subject she had been evading for weeks. "You won't even tell me who the father is."

I'Lai gasped and shot straight up in the bed, her eyes wide and terrfied, her mouth agape. Nikoa's mouth curved into wry smile, and she patted I'Lai's hand. "My Lady, " she cooed, "I have worked in this house for over thirty years. Don't you think by now I know EVERYTHING that goes on here? And everything that doesn't?" She sighed, leaning over to touch I'Lai's cheek. "Twenty-two years with Lady Denivrian, ten years with you, and not one child. I don't need to be a doctor to know a few things. Grand Moff Denivrian could never father children."

I'Lai's tears started anew. "He knew it too, Nikoa. How could he not know? But…he didn't care. He was just so happy that he would have someone to call son, to carry on his name, and that I would be the mother of his heir…" She looked out upon the snow-covered garden. "I miss him, Nikoa. Nobody knew him the way I did. All here saw him as a harsh taskmaster, a tyrant slaver. But I knew him differently…if I had not freed the miners, he would have. He was about to…"

"My Lady, you have been through more than most people could possibly tolerate in the last three months. The Grand Moff's sudden death, the Emperor bestowing the entire estate and mining operation upon you, you abolishing the miners' slavery and the building of their new townships…and you bear all this while carrying a child." Nikoa smiled and shook her head. "It is little wonder that you are having bad dreams. But you need to rest, Lady. Please, do not work today. Stay in bed and try to get some sleep. I implore you, Lady I'Lai. PLEASE."

I'Lai swung her legs over the side of the bed, shaking her head. "I can't, Nikoa. I am meeting with the Magistrate of the Southern Hemisphere Operation this morning to discuss, what I imagine, his annual tribute—or the lack thereof, this year." Nikoa sighed as she watched I'Lai reach for her robe. She knew that there was no point in trying to persuade her to rest. 

"Then I will draw your bath, Madam, and lay out your clothes for the meeting." Nikoa stood and strode toward the bath chamber while I'Lai donned her long fur-lined robe. Nikoa stopped suddenly, scanning the bedchamber from wall to wall, furrowing her brow. "Madam…why are all the figurines knocked over? And the pictures…they've fallen off the walls?" She turned to see I'Lai stiffen, clutching the robe at her throat. She could see that I'Lai was trembling and wore a look mixed with frustration and fear.

"I—I do not know why, Nikoa", I'Lai snapped harshly. She turned toward the garden doors, adding, "Please pay me the respect of never mentioning it again! Either to me or anyone else. Understood?"

Nikoa stood, confused and hurt by I'Lai's sudden sharpness. She bowed her gray head slightly and replied softly, "Yes, your Ladyship." She turned and walked into the bath chamber as I'Lai stared blankly out into the slumbering garden, her hand unconsciously caressing her belly.

* * *

"Your… Ladyship," Magistrate Omin'da declared with a mix of stately manner and utter contempt, wiping his sweating brow with his handkerchief, "I believe that you misunderstand my intentions. I merely voice my concerns not for my own benefit, but for the benefit of this vast operation and for the benefit of the planet, yea, the entire system. While your philanthropic ideals are…admirable…I simply do not believe they are realistic within the operation's budget or profit margins. Respectfully, Madam." He sniffed his nose as he replaced the kerchief back into his sleeve.

I'Lai smiled sweetly over the desk toward the Magistrate, all the while loathing the little toad of the man. She couldn't help but relish just a tiny bit in the fact that Magistrate Omin'da hated her even more so. She knew Omin'da felt she had cheated him out of control of the Dia-Orri mining operation, even though she was more stunned than anyone when the Emperor bestowed it upon her, a concubine, only days after Denivrian's death. And she knew Omin'da was vying for the High Governor's seat, still officially unoccupied yet also, temporarily, under I'Lai's control. Frankly, I'Lai would be willing to let him have it if she wasn't positive that Omin'da would reverse everything she had accomplished over the last three months.

She punched several keys on the desk computer, perusing the screen. "Forgive me, Lord Magistrate, but I honestly cannot see where your concerns lie. According to this last quarter's numbers, productivity is up almost fifty percent and profits are up thirty percent compared to last year at this same time." She lifted her gaze back to Omin'da as she stated, "So what I can gather from this information is that free, well-fed, and healthy paid workers are far more productive and profitable than malnourished, diseased slaves. Am I wrong?" She turned the screen around to give Magistrate Omin'da a better view.

Omin'da didn't even bother to look at the screen, but rather glared at I'Lai from across the desk. "I am not contesting the numbers, Your Ladyship. I am contesting how the profits are being used. First, you free the slave miners. Then you PAY the ones who decide to remain. THEN you contract housing to be built for them, as well as shops and schools and the Emperor himself know what else!" He once again took the kerchief from his sleeve, this time wiping his bulbous neck. "I wonder what may be next on your agenda? Free elections? Letting them vote on planetary issues?"

I'Lai leaned back in her chair, folding her hands over the slight bulge of her abdomen. She met Omin'da's eyes and held his glare as she calmly replied, "Yes, Magistrate. Once literacy has been established throughout the general populace, then I think it is only fitting that the newly free citizens of the Dia-Orri system have some say in the establishment of system policies, don't you?"

She didn't give Omin'da a chance to bluster his retort. She rose from her chair and came around the desk, never lifting her glare from his. "This is not an issue of company profits being poorly managed, Omin'da. This is an issue of your pockets not being as thickly padded with kickbacks and tributes this year." She stood before him, tall and proud, her arms folded over her chest. "I would think, my Lord Magistrate, after twenty five years of service under the Grand Moff's regime, you would have accumulated more wealth than you could possibly spend in ten lifetimes. And according to the mortality reports from the Southern Hemisphere, this wealth has obviously kept your coffers warmer than any miner's child has been in recent years." She allowed herself to sit lightly on the edge of her desk as she added, "Despite my position as acting governor, I unfortunately do not have the power to REMOVE you from your position—only the Emperor has that authority. However, he may be more than curious to know that the upswing in production in this system is being compromised by your own greed and lack of vision regarding the further glory and progress of his Galactic Empire." I'Lai strode around the desk again, placing a finger on the comlink. "I have a direct link to the Imperial Mining Guild's central offices. Shall I make my report now, Magistrate?"

I'Lai watched the deep purple hue rise from beneath Magistrate Omin'da's collar to spread over his normally pasty complexion and his knuckles turn white as he gripped the arms of his chair. His jowls shook in rage as he rose from the chair and straightened his jacket. "No need for any report, Madam, " he spat. "I think we understand each other." He grabbed his furred robe off the back of the chair and stormed to the door. Before leaving, he turned back to I'Lai. "Permission to speak freely before I go, Your Ladyship?"

"But of course, Lord Magistrate."

Omin'da pulled himself to his fullest height, still vast centimeters shorter than I'Lai. "I do not know what…WITCHCRAFT you possess, but I see you are poisoning our great Emperor with it in the same way you poisoned my good friend Reynau Denivrian. Woe the day will ever come that I find myself ensnared by a breeding whore's sorcery!"

I'Lai, calm and regal, merely smiled. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Lord Magistrate. Also, please extend my sincerest apologies to Lady Omin'da that she may only visit the pleasure planet five times this year instead of ten.

"And Magistrate, " she added, "The Grand Moff was not your good friend. He never liked you."

Omin'da, his whole soft, flabby body shaking with rage, stormed out of the chamber.

I'Lai held her lips tight for a few moments and then, positive the Magistrate was well down the hall, burst into laughter. She walked toward the windows of her large office and threw open the opulent curtains, allowing the sun to drench the office with its pale bluish light.

Suddenly, she stopped laughing. A strange feeling washed over her. The intensity of the feeling was familiar to I'Lai, and she was immediately frightened by it. It was very close to the sensation she had been experiencing every time she woke up screaming from the nightmares that plagued her night after night…

But…this was different. This did not feel malevolent, but rather soothing, warm, inviting, peaceful. She felt as though she were being embraced by the light of a white illuminant star.

She turned toward the door just as Nikoa was entering. Before Nikoa could even speak, I'Lai said, "Nikoa…is there someone here to see me?"

Nikoa stopped in her tracks, her mouth agape. "Why, yes Madam. There is a young man here to see you."

Despite the fact that I'Lai's question had obviously surprised Nikoa, I'Lai noticed that her lady's maid seemed very relaxed, almost dreamy in her demeanor. She wore a soft smile, and her voice was soft as well.

I'Lai moved closer to Nikoa. "What is his name? Who is he?"

Nikoa blinked for a moment in quiet confusion, then answered, "I…do not know, Madam. He didn't give me his name. He is…an off-worlder."

I'Lai furrowed her brow for a moment as she tried to comprehend how this off-worlder had made his way to the palace or had even gotten through planetary security patrols without her knowledge. But she felt no threat, no danger whatsoever from the news of this stranger, rather, quite the opposite…

"Send him in, Nikoa. I will grant him an audience."

Nikoa bowed, and went back into the corridor. I'Lai walked back to her desk and eased herself into her seat. The doors swooshed open again and in walked a young human male wearing a long black hooded cloak. He was young, perhaps a few years younger than herself, and his gait was humble yet majestic. He strode with quiet purpose toward the desk. He pulled back the hood, took I'Lai's outstretched hand, bowed and kissed it.

"Lady I'Lai", he said with profound reverence. "Please forgive this intrusion and allow me to introduce myself. My name is—"

"Luke Skywalker," I'Lai murmured, finishing his introduction for him.

The young man cocked his head slightly, and smiled softly. "You know of me then, Madam?"

I'Lai, in spite of her apparent confusion, returned the smile. "No, sir, I do not know of you…I just… simply knew your name…"

Luke Skywalker and I'Lai gazed at each other for a time before he finally spoke. "Your Ladyship, I seek a private counsel with you. I would be honored if you would give me a few moments of your time. If you will not, then I will leave peacefully and never contact you again."

I'Lai, never breaking her gaze, motioned to Nikoa. "Nikoa, leave us, please."

Nikoa bowed again and moved toward the exit, also never taking her eyes off the mysterious young man until she was through the door.

I'Lai motioned to the chair in front of her desk. "Please, Master Skywalker, sit and be comfortable." Luke bowed, and took a seat. I'Lai, still strangely mesmerized by the young man, folded her hands upon the desk. "Forgive my forwardness, Master Skywalker, but I would like to know how you made it into this system past my security patrols without my clearance."

Luke sighed. "No, Lady I'Lai, it is you who must forgive me. Had my visit not been of the utmost urgency, I never would have…manipulated your patrols or your house servants in the way I did." He leaned forward, his eyes intent and imploring. "We are in desperate need of your help, your Ladyship."

I'Lai sat still and unflinching as she stated, "You are from the Rebel Alliance."

"Yes, your Ladyship, I am."

I'Lai took a deep breath. "You take great risks in coming here, Master Skywalker. Not only for yourself, but for me as well."

"Yes, I realize that. But after we found out about your ongoing work here on Orri Prime, the Rebel leaders and I thought it was a risk worth taking." He looked up at her and smiled, adding, "You struck me as a woman not afraid of risk when the reason was great enough to take it."

Luke watched I'Lai's hand, almost instinctively, move over the swell of her pregnant belly: Luke guessed she was about 5 months along. I'Lai cleared her throat and asked, "And how did you discover what I was doing here on Orri Prime, Master Skywalker?"

"We've…had an operative planted here for some time, Lady I'Lai."

"Captain Stitz, the dock captain," I'Lai blurted.

Luke stiffened slightly in his seat. "You knew, Madam?"

I'Lai furrowed her brow, shaking her head. "I…do now…"

"Also, one of our best men had been involved in your supply smuggling operation until you took control of the entire system from the late Grand Moff Denivrian. You may remember him, Captain Han Solo?"

I'Lai gasped. "Yes, I do remember Captain Solo. But…I had no idea he was involved with the Rebellion!"

Luke nodded. "Like I said, he was one of our best. He did much of our undercover work. He and Captain Stitz were good friends." A sad look washed over Luke's face. "Captain Solo spoke very highly of you, Lady I'Lai. He spoke of your humanity, your kindness and generosity, as well as your beauty, although I can now see he didn't quite do you justice."

I'Lai smiled briefly, feeling her cheeks flush slightly. She did remember Captain Solo—tall, devilishly handsome, swaggering and charming. She remembered the first time she met him at the space dock late one night as her supplies were smuggled in, and how he had incorrigibly flirted with her until Captain Stitz informed him that she was Grand Moff Denivrian's First House Concubine. And even thereafter, he managed to sneak a wink and a smirk at her here and there…and she remembered how her heart would skip a tiny beat. She remembered his Wookie first mate Chewbacca, and how, when Solo wasn't looking, she herself would sneak a scratch under Chewbacca's chin. Chewbacca would repay her tickles with a hearty Wookie laugh and purr.

She then realized the manner in which Luke Skywalker spoke of Han Solo. He spoke of him in the past tense.

"Master Skywalker, is Captain Solo all right?" I'Lai asked. The despairing look in his eyes did nothing to assuage her concern. "Is he…dead?"

Luke looked up and met her anxious gaze. "We don't know, your Ladyship. But we are doing everything possible to find him. He was taken to Jabba the Hutt, a notorious crime lord, captured by the bounty hunter Boba Fett and—"

A small vase flying off the desk and shattering violently against the wall cut Skywalker's explanation short. 

Stunned, he slowly turned his eyes back to I'Lai. She sat frozen---her hands had never broken their folded position until that moment, when she raised a trembling to her mouth. Her complexion blanched to a ghostly pale. Her eyes were wide and very frightened.

"Lady I'Lai, what is it? Are you all right?" 

I'Lai said nothing, but merely gaped at him, completely frozen with fear.

Luke finally realized that he had found the beacon that had caused such strong vibrations in the Force. He had felt the rifts intensely as he entered the Dia-Orri system, and by the time he had reached the palace gates, the Force was virtually singing all around him in a chorus of warmth and benevolence. As he had stood before the Lady I'Lai when he first entered, he could barely bring himself to speak, staggered by the radiance of the Force emanating from her.

He could see I'Lai was doing everything to pull herself together. She fluttered her lashes, reaching for a glass of water on the desk. "Master Skywalker…," she stammered, raising the glass to her lips, "I…cannot explain what just happened here…"

_By the gods, _Luke thought to himself_, she isn't even aware of it! She has no idea of her power! She's terrified of it…_

Luke rose from his seat. He removed the cloak from his shoulders, coming around the desk. "Lady I'Lai, come out into the garden with me. I think I can explain what just happened." He gently laid the cloak around her shoulders and helped her out of her seat. Taking her by the hand, they walked to the great glass doors and stepped out into the east garden.

The air had a chill, but it was more refreshing than uncomfortable. I'Lai was still shaken, but the late-morning light of the sun and Luke's kind expression seemed to calm her some. He led to her a bench, gallantly brushing the snow off it to allow I'Lai a seat.

"Lady", Luke murmured as he sat beside her, "You are indeed a rare gift to this universe. You are a natural born Force sensitive."

I'Lai's head tilted, her expression frightened yet inquisitive. "A…what?"

Luke smiled and took her slender hand in his own. "Lady I'Lai. Have you always had a…natural ability to see into people hearts and minds? Into their souls? Have people…been drawn to you your whole life?"

I'Lai pondered his questions for a moment, and then answered, "Yes…yes."

"And how long have you been able to move objects with your mind, your feelings?"

I'Lai shuddered at the question. "Only recently. Since I discovered I was pregnant."

"It is nothing to be afraid of, Lady I'Lai. You were born with a natural, wondrous power, the power of the Force." Luke looked up to the sky, a soft smile caressing his lips. "You knew my name even before I said it. You felt me coming, didn't you?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Luke nodded as well, still looking into the sky. "The Force is the binding energy of all things in the universe, Lady. Everything, from the smallest grain of sand to the largest star, radiates its power, its essence. There are very few left in the galaxy who can harness its power. It is what made the Jedi the great warriors, teachers, and leaders that they were." He lowered his head, adding sadly, "It is also what helped destroy them."

"How? How did it destroy them?"

Luke paused briefly before answering. "Like all things in this universe, Lady, the Force is also made up of light and dark, good and evil. There were those who were seduced by the Dark Side of the Force, hungry for absolute power, and they used the Dark Side to obtain it. Those few…hunted the Jedi to extinction." He looked I'Lai squarely in the eye. "The Emperor is one of those who murdered the Old Jedi. The Lord Darth Vader is another…" I'Lai noted the anguish on Luke's face as he uttered Vader's name, and sensed an odd, unbearable connection between this fair young man and the Dark Lord of the Sith…

Luke stood and continued. "I have dedicated my life in not only destroying the Emperor, but in also taking up the ways of the Jedi. I have not been completely successful in my training, but…I have begun to understand what I need to do." He turned to I'Lai again. "I have only begun to harness the Light of the Force, but you, Lady…it emanates from you like the illumination from a star. You could be a powerful ally to us in our fight against the Emperor and his tyranny."

I'Lai sat for a moment, saying nothing, absorbing all that Luke had told her. She began to feel her fear and anxiety ebb away. "Master Skywalker, although I have just met you, I feel I can…confide in you. May I?"

"Of course, Lady I'Lai."

"I have been having terrible nightmares. And Lord Vader is in them, every night." Luke could see the tears welling in her eyes as she added, "I think he wants to hurt my baby…"

Luke moved toward her, gently gripping her shoulders. His eyes were intense yet warm, his tone fierce yet tender. "Lady I'Lai, join us! We can protect you from him and his Emperor! The Emperor may be aware of your power, and may be trying to use you for some scheme. Don't let him, I'Lai! You have the power to block him out, to block Vader out!"

I'Lai's mouth gaped open as she stared into Luke's crystal blue eyes. It all started to make sense now…She never understood why the Emperor had bestowed Denivrian's system to her, a courtesan. Giving her complete control, giving her riches beyond her wildest dreams…

"My baby. Luke, they want my child!" She began to tremble, feeling her legs weaken beneath her. "What…what do I do? What can I do?"

Luke threw his arms around her, holding her close to him. I'Lai embraced him, leaning her head against his chest as the tears streamed down her face. "When Vader comes to you tonight in your dreams, do not be afraid, I'Lai! Do not fear him—the Dark Side feeds off the fear in your heart. Cast him out, fight him!"

I'Lai broke the embrace, looking into Luke's eyes. Despite her years at court, despite her riches, her position, everything…I'Lai realized, at that moment, she was nothing more than a slave to the Emperor. Denivrian, Omin'da, even, she felt, Darth Vader—all _slaves_. And now the Emperor sought to make her unborn son a slave as well…NO.

For the first time since Denivrian's death, she felt strong, powerful, and unafraid. She no longer felt alone.

"I will help you, Luke Skywalker. I will help you and the Alliance with whatever you need."

Luke bent to kneel on one knee, taking I'Lai's hand in both of his own and kissing it. "Lady I'Lai, you have not only freed the people of this planet, but today you just freed yourself. Thank you, Lady I'Lai. Han…would be very pleased."

At the mention of Solo's name, I'Lai closed her eyes. She felt herself drift, and when the feelings came to her, she did not fear them or fight them, but rather embraced them. However, the vision that came to her stabbed at her very soul, and she felt once again her eyes water with tears.

Opening her eyes, she looked down at Luke. "Captain Solo is alive, Luke. He is…on the ship of Boba Fett, heading to the palace of Jabba the Hutt." Unable to remain calm any longer, I'Lai burst into tears.

Luke rose, and took I'Lai into his arms. She sobbed against his chest, and Luke gently rocked her back and forth. "Lady I'Lai, I feel you are carrying a terrible burden within your heart. If you wish, you may tell me…I will tell no one else, you have my word."

"I…can't even say the words, Luke…"

"Then don't say anything, I'Lai. Tell me with your mind, your heart…"

Although no words were spoken, I'Lai, with her newfound ability, told Luke Skywalker everything that had occurred on the Executor… I'Lai's last words in Luke's mind were clear, soft, and entreating. Luke was almost brought to tears himself.

"Please, Luke…if you find Fett, promise me, please promise me you won't kill him… bring to him back here to me…please…"

They stood there in the sleeping garden, in the still winter air, in each other's arms, for a small, silent moment of eternity.

* * * 

It had been a trying day, and I'Lai was exhausted both physically and emotionally.

After their talk in the east garden, Luke and I'Lai had gone immediately to the space dock to talk to Captain Stitz. Stitz had actually wept, begging I'Lai to forgive him for deceiving her for so long. I'Lai embraced him and informed Stitz that Orri Prime was now, surreptitiously, part of the Rebel Alliance. Stitz then put out a call to all the mining overseers throughout the system, informing them of the emergency meeting to take place that day at Grand Mountain Hall on Orri Prime by order of the Lady I'Lai.

When all the overseers had gathered, Luke Skywalker entreated them to rally round the Rebellion's cause. He informed the miners of the Rebellion's desperate need for durasteel ore to build new ships and to repair their existing fleet. He told them that by joining in the fight against the Emperor, they were that much closer to freedom from oppression and tyranny.

"The Lady I'Lai has freed you from your slavery here on Orri Prime," Luke had said to the assembly. "We ask that you help free the rest of the galaxy from its slavery to Emperor Palpatine. I know I ask much, perhaps too much, in ways of sacrifice and courage. You will be putting your families and your very lives at risk. If there are any here who are not willing to help us in our fight, you may leave and return to your homes. The Lady I'Lai and I swear that you will suffer no repercussions regarding your decision."

No one had left. One by one, every man and woman in the hall stood and pledged his or her undying allegiance to I'Lai and to the Rebel Alliance. One man in particular, an old man with a limp and white hair, came forward and fell to his knees in front of I'Lai, grasping her hand and stating, "Lady—you saved my family from starvation, and had the manor doctor give me a new leg. You are the queen of my heart, and I would give my life for you…and your son."

The day then sped at a breakneck pace. I'Lai, Luke, Stitz, and the assembly of mining overseers then laid out the grueling work and shipping schedules: The shifts would be split so that production would be doubled during various times of the day, with the Rebellion's share of the mined ore being transported out under the cover of night. Stitz gave Luke all the Imperial code clearances that would be needed for the Rebel's freighters to be able to enter and exit the Dia-Orri system.

Next, I'Lai sent a communication of feigned apology to Magistrate Omin'da, stating that, after thinking about what he said earlier that morning, she realized that she was wrong and he was right. She told him that his annual tribute would be waiting for him in his accounts, and to please take a month off and escort Lady Omin'da to the pleasure planet, with all expenses paid by I'Lai herself, of course…

"There", I'Lai sighed, giving Luke a sidelong glance and wink after finishing the message, "That should get that little reptile out of our hair for a while."

Finally, I'Lai escorted Luke back to the space dock, where his X-wing fighter waited for him. She had tried to convince him to stay for the night and rest, but Luke insisted that he leave.

"I must get back. My friends are waiting for me. We have begun an initial plan to rescue Captain Solo, and now that you have seen him alive in your vision, we must go forward with our plan." Luke had reached over and cupped her face, kissing her on the cheek, adding, "Remember what I told you to do tonight, in your dreams."

I'Lai took his hands in her own, smiling through her tears, and nodded. "Farewell, Luke Skywalker."

Luke smiled back. "You will see me again. I promise." With that, he broke the embrace and climbed into the fighter. I'Lai watched as it ascended, and waved goodbye when she heard the little R2 unit guiding it chirp its merry farewell…

I'Lai now sat on the edge of her bed, gently caressing her belly. She felt content, peaceful, and strong, and wore a small smile of gentle satisfaction. She had done well that day. She had taken the first steps in insuring that her son would grow up in a better time, a better place than this.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft footfalls of Nikoa's footsteps entering her chamber. She turned and smiled at her maid. "Good evening, Nikoa. I…I want to apologize for berating you today. I didn't mean to."

Nikoa returned her smile, and sat next to her on the bed. "There is no need to apologize, your Ladyship. I understand." She took I'Lai's hand in her own. They sat quietly for a few moments. Then Nikoa asked, a bit sheepishly, "Are you frightened, Madam? About the steps you've taken today?"

I'Lai turned to her maid, taking in a deep breath. "No, Nikoa, I'm not. I suppose I should be, but…I am not afraid. Not anymore." She tilted her head a little to the side. "Are you?"

Still smiling, Nikoa shook her head. "No, Madam. I'm not frightened either. I…am so very proud of you…I'Lai." She reached over and embraced I'Lai, adding, "I feel down to the very bottom of my soul that we shall all be free very soon." She leaned back and loosened the embrace. "About the nightmares, Madam…do you want me to stay here with you tonight?"

I'Lai smiled again, gingerly touching Nikoa's soft, withered face. "No, Nikoa, thank you. Tonight…I think it is best if I am alone." She leaned over and kissed Nikoa's cheek. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, I'Lai." Nikoa rose and walked quietly out of the room, commanding the room console to diminish the lights. 

I'Lai watched her go, then pulled back the fur bed covers and slipped into the silk sheets. She laid back her head and closed her eyes…

* * *

The gentle sway of sleep had transported I'Lai back to the lush summer garden of her prior dreams. Once again, the trees were heavy with their ripe fruits, and the flowers exploded their huge blooms all around her, enveloping her in their exotic perfume. The blue sun bathed her in its cool light, and the breeze was sweet and warm as it whispered through her loose ebon ringlets.

She looked down and saw that she no longer wore her thin nightgown, but rather a robe of purest white wrapped in the front and tied with a sash, white trousers, and high white boots. She recognized the garb from holophotos she had seen once from a forbidden databook—it was the garb of the Jedi, the long lost knighted order of the Old Republic. She smoothed the robe downward with her hands, and then realized she was wearing a weapon belt. She reached down and unhitched the weapon hanging from the belt, raising it to her view.

It was a silver, cylindrical hilt. A row of buttons and switches were embedded in the flat side of the cylinder. I'Lai touched a button, and a shaft of light blue energy shot forth just shy of a meter. She waved the instrument back and forth, eventually finding herself executing thrusts, blocks, and parries. Although she had never touched a weapon in her life, this instrument felt right, felt true in her hand, as though it was always meant to be there…

The change in the wind stopped her cold. She felt the dark presence approaching the garden even before the temperature plummeted and the air was filled with rancid stench. Again, the branches of the surrounding woods began to grow dense and high, entwining themselves like vipers in a pit of white sky. I'Lai turned and stood tall and unafraid, glaring defiantly over the garden wall into the thickening dark forest…

Directly ahead, the limbs and branches began falling back on either side, cutting a path for the dark intruder as he neared the garden wall. Despite that he was meters away, the labored wheeze of his respirator was deafening. Darth Vader seemed like a moving black mountain as he came forward toward the wall. He stepped over the wall as though it were a mere pebble, landing soundlessly upon the cobblestone garden floor.

They stood there for several moments staring at each other, neither moving a muscle. I'Lai was amazed by her own feelings of calm and confidence. She was not frightened at all.

"Good Evening, Lord Vader. What, no ruse? No disguises tonight?"

"I saw no need for such devices this visit," Vader answered, his voice low and thick with sinister confidence. "Particularly after your meeting today with my _son_." He seemed amused by the look of subdued shock he saw in I'Lai's eyes. "No, you didn't know that, did you, girl?"

I'Lai did not reply, but did realize at that moment the anguished connection she had felt between Skywalker and Vader when Luke had mentioned the Dark Lord's name…

Vader continued. "If I were you, I wouldn't put your faith in Luke Skywalker, Lady I'Lai. My son and his laughable Rebellion exist on borrowed time. I feel his connection to the Dark Side grow stronger by the day, and it is only a matter of time before he is one with me…and the Emperor."

I'Lai narrowed her eyes, a hint of a smile curling the side of her mouth. "Really, Vader? If Skywalker is so close to becoming an agent for you, then why do you come to me night after night? Why do you seem so interested in _my_ child?" She allowed the smile to spread across her face as she raised the lightsabre to point directly at the Dark Lord. "You have doubt, Vader, I can feel it. You know deep in your heart, your soul, that Luke will never be tainted. I think, deep down, you actually do not want him to be…"

"You have no inkling of the power of the Dark Side, woman-child!" Vader roared as he took a step forward. I'Lai, instinctively, struck a defensive position, raising the saber across her face in a blocking move. Vader stopped. His tone changed, becoming soft, almost seductive.

"I'Lai…you do not understand, child. You have a natural gift, and the Dark Side could hone that gift. You could be more powerful than anything this galaxy has ever seen." He outstretched his gloved hand toward her. "Think of the good you could do, I'Lai, the people you could help. Think of your son on the Imperial throne, I'Lai---a benevolent master presiding over the entire galaxy, and you, behind him, guiding him…" He was moving closer toward her, his hand stretched, his voice caressing her ears, her soul…I'Lai slowly lowered the saber, staring into Vader's mask, unable to avert her eyes…

Visions flashed before her eyes. She saw towers of white ivory that kissed lavender skies…she saw a young man, an emperor, dressed in sumptuous robes, seated on a gilded throne…thousands of worlds before him, billions bowing to him…she saw herself standing behind the throne, her jewel-encrusted hand resting on his shoulder…the young king turned, smiling at his mother…she saw his face…his face… smooth and unscarred …

Boba Fett's face… …

"I'Lai…I can give you anything and everything…anything you desire…"

Anything you desire…anything… 

I'Lai snapped the vision out of her mind. She glared viciously at Darth Vader, who was only a breath away from touching her…

"I want my child's father, Vader!" she growled, raising the saber before her and circling the Dark Lord like an advancing black-maned lioness. "I want Boba Fett here with me! I want him to know the love of his son! I want him to be at peace! Can you give me that, Vader? CAN YOU?"

"FETT!" Vader's wheezing laughter echoed off the density of the encroaching forest. "You would throw away an entire universe for that degenerate piece of cloned refuse! I offer your son the throne to the Empire, power beyond all reason—"

"You offer nothing but _slavery_, Vader! Slavery to evil, slavery to the Dark Side! I would have my son become like _you_?" I'Lai stopped in her tracks. Suddenly, tiny specks of light began to encircle her, growing more and more in numbers by the passing seconds. The wind gusted and swirled, blowing her hair up into a raven tempest all around her. She never took her eyes of Vader as she held the saber over her head.

"Get out of here, Vader. Get out of my mind and never come back! _YOU WILL NEVER HAVE MY SON!"_ I'Lai then stepped forward and, with a slicing motion, ran the saber through Darth Vader, cleaving his torso…

Red light exploded from the ground where Vader stood, and the wind howled around them in manic fury. The trees themselves screamed from the impact, and I'Lai was thrown back meters from where she stood, landing on her back. Instinctively, she rolled over and cradled her stomach, shielding her unborn child from the explosion.

Suddenly, the winds stopped, and once again, it was nightfall in the garden. I'Lai slowly raised her head and, still lying on the ground, turned around.

Darth Vader still stood, huge and stoic, in center of the garden. But the trees and their branches began to shrink back to their normal size, and the flowers seeped back into the ground. A light snow began to fall. Vader glanced down at his armored torso then lifted his mask once again to face I'Lai.

"I may never have your son, girl", Vader said in a low, frigid rumble, "But someone, someday, just may…"

The crown of Darth Vader's helmet began to melt in thick black beads, running down his mask, his shoulders…suddenly, Vader's entire body splashed to the ground in a pool of black liquid, which ran in rivulets into the cracks of the cobblestone garden floor, disappearing under the slabs…

I'Lai sat up, and realized she was freezing. Looking down, she saw that she no longer wore the white Jedi garb, but was once again dressed in her thin nightgown.

As the snow floated against her face and eyelashes, she saw the sun's light peeking over the tops of the trees. She set her hands against her belly, and was immediately comforted and relieved by the movement of her son within. I'Lai sat for a few moments on the cold stone ground before rising and heading back into her bedchamber for well deserved sleep.

* * *


	3. Where The Day Takes You

DISCLAIMER: I MAKE NO MONEY OFF MY WRITINGS AND ALL CHARACTERS (SANS THOSE OF MY OWN CREATION) BELONG TO GEORGE LUCAS AND LUCASFILM, LTD.

Episode 1

Chapter 3

Where the Day Takes You

Sol 2, Tatooine's second sun, was just beginning its descent behind the massive dunes surrounding the Pit of Carcoon. The usually impressive desert sunset was made even more brilliant as the fading light struck through the billowing smoke pouring out of the smoldering pleasure barge, making its wind-blown journey over the dunes' horizon. As red-orange radiance gracefully morphed into indigo purple dusk, it cast its shroud of dune-struck shadows across the dilapidated barge and the dozens of corpses encircling it, assisting the encroaching sands in covering the dead.

Meters away, the Saarlac slept…or at least seemed to. The meal that day, its largest in years, allowed the sand-submerged beast to rest it tentacles from its constant search for food. A low rhythmic rumble emerged from the thing; had anything living been around to hear it, the sound may have been interpreted as snoring.

Suddenly, the Saarlac's labored breathing stopped with a thunderous snort. The few seconds of silence were then interrupted by a muffled explosion emanating from deep inside the beast's innards. The air was pierced by the Saarlac's deafening screech, and the entire pit convulsed and bucked, the Saarlac's tentacles flapping wildly about. Another explosion belched forth from the monster's belly. The entire Saarlac violently heaved up as it vomited a geyser of guts, fluids, smoke, and body parts toward the sky. The last thing to be dispensed from the beast's gullet was an intact humanoid figure with fire exploding from its back…

The figure flew in a graceful arc through the air before the jetpack on its back sputtered. Quickly decelerating, it hit the sands surrounding the Saarlac with a sickening thud and a roar of intense pain. Swiftly bringing himself to his knees, Boba Fett spun his torso toward the beast and, reaching for his right bracer, ignited its flamethrower.

A river of fire exploded from Fett's arm, engulfing the Saarlac's exposed head and mouth and illuminating the desert night sky. The monster thrashed and heaved, its screams echoing throughout the valley in a cacophony of agony. Flaming embers of flesh and hair sparked and crackled into the air all around the pit. Fett licked his lips under his helm, a malevolent grin twisting his face as he steadily, relentlessly roasted the Saarlac alive.

The choking stench of seared flesh permeated the air. The Saarlac lugged up in one last torturous convulsion, and finally the burned and dying beast slithered back into his pit, just as Fett's flamethrower ran out of fuel.

As the Saarlac descended into the sands, Fett fell forward to rest on all fours, greedily gulping in as much delicious air as he could. 

"There, you filthy load of Bantha shit", Fett mumbled between hard, raw breaths, "How's that for heartburn?"

As the effects of the adrenaline pulsing through his veins began to subside, it was only at that moment when he realized it hurt to breathe; a stabbing ache ripped through his left side with every breath drawn in. It hurt even more to rest on his right arm. He slowly, painfully, rose to his feet, wiping the creature's gullet juices off the visor of his helmet and the plates of his armor. He held himself steady as the entire desert seemed to spin around him, and he reached up to the helm, running his fingers along the huge crack in the top of the helmet. As he tried to step forward, he roared once again as pain shot straight up his leg from his left ankle and knee. Nevertheless, he forced himself to limp forward toward the smoldering hulk of Jabba the Hutt's now wrecked land-locked sand barge.

Standing before the huge smoking husk of the transport, Fett removed his helmet to get a better view. The bow stuck into the low dune, leaning to the port side. The body of a guard was draped over the rail of the observation deck, his right arm nearly burned off his shoulder. The outside wall, streaked with blackened lines of burnt blood, was glowing a brown-orange, indicating that fire still raged within. The sands were littered with broken glass, pieces of clothing, shattered weapons, and sheets of charred metal as well as the scorched bodies of dancers, thugs, and guests of the ill-fated party.

Fett, still staring up at the burning hulk, threw his helmet down into the sand. "Son of a bitch…" he murmured under his breath.

He turned in a full circle, hoping to find something resembling a working vehicle, finding nothing. The remaining sand speeder was in worse shape than the barge, lying in burning bits across the dune valley floor. Han Solo and the rest of the rebels in their escape had obviously taken the remaining speeder.

Fett reached up and grabbed a fistful of his own hair as he fought to control the rage building throughout his battered body. The curse seemed to begin deep within his bowels, moving up his torso until it finally roared from his lips…

"Damn you! Gods damn you to all the hells!" he screamed into the desert night, the echoes further taunting him as they bounced around the dune valley. Even as he said it, Fett wasn't entirely sure who he was cursing, Solo, the Rebels, Jabba's crew…or himself.

Fett was disgusted with himself. He had been careless. He had allowed himself to become distracted. The fact that he had been knocked to the deck of the speeder during his attempt to snare Skywalker had rattled him, taken him off his guard. He hadn't been concentrating on the capture; he had let his emotions take over as he aimed his blaster at the self-proclaimed Jedi, unaware of everything around him, behind him…He had stupidly believed that Solo, unarmed and blind, was no threat at that moment. He hadn't seen Solo pick up the spear, waving it wildly until the spearhead had stuck right into the redundant ignition switch on the back of his jetpack, sending Fett careening through the air, smashing into the bulkhead of the barge and dropping right into the awaiting maw of the Saarlac.

Fett ran his hand through his spiked hair. When he brought it down and looked at the palm of his glove, he saw it covered with blood. Glaring at the stain, a bitter laugh emerged from his lips.

"You're finished, Hunter," Fett snarled under his breath. He leaned back his head, glaring at the stars that seemed to mock him with their cheerful flicker. "This never would have happened before…_her_." He closed his eyes and lowered his head to rest against his closed fist. "She's poisoned you."

Again, as it had for these many months, the image of an alabaster heart-shaped face with dazzling teal eyes framed by shimmering black curls infiltrated his thoughts—and again, he fought to expel it from his mind…

"Not now, " he whispered, clenching his eyes closed. "Do _not_ haunt me now…"

Fett leaned down and grabbed the helmet out of the sand, furiously trying to ignore the unbearable pain the action caused him. He had to get moving. He had to get back to his ship and run a medical scan and do what he could to mend himself. He had to get off this gods-forsaken rock of a planet. As he carefully placed the helmet back on his head and switched on the infrared, he heard a faint, desperate cry coming from just beyond the stern of the barge.

He limped toward the voice, stopping once and bending down to pick up the blaster of one of the dead guards lying in the sand. As he approached closer, he recognized the language the voice was speaking as Twi'leki. He stopped and found himself staring down on a badly burned and mutilated Bib Fortuna, the major domo of Jabba the Hutt's palace.

One of Fortuna's head tentacles had been burned off, as well as half his face. His robes were nothing more than seared rags that stuck to his flesh. His arm was mangled almost beyond recognition, and both his legs were broken and crumpled under him. With his good arm, he reached up toward Fett, stammering, "Hoota nundi, Fett…Hoota nundi…" Roughly translated into galactic basic, "Help me."

Fett looked down at the twisted, injured Twi'lek. "Tough break, huh, Fortuna?" Raising the blaster and pointing it right between Bib Fortuna's eyes, he added, "Sure, Bib, I'll help you…"

"Nah, Fett, nah! Fichi ag AKAAAA!!!"

The high-pitched shriek of the blaster shot was followed by cold silence, then by quiet footsteps falling on sand as Boba Fett lurched over a dune in the desert night. It would be a lengthy, excruciating trek back, on foot and injured, through the unforgiving Tatooine desert to the palace of the now dead Jabba the Hutt.

* * *

_Any day now_ Dr. Him'bron had said just a few days earlier. For I'Lai, any day now was not soon enough.

She had tried to hoist herself out of her chair, but then realized that the grand mound of her belly had trapped her between the desk and the chair. Frustrated, she huffed and bumped the chair back, braced herself against the arm and tried again. Slowly and with a degree of difficulty, she rose to a standing position. Taking a tiny break from the effort, she placed both hands against the small of her back, which was intensely throbbing and had been for weeks. She rubbed the tender area as she shuffled forward toward the bath chamber where Nikoa had already started drawing I'Lai's bath before retiring for the evening.

As she entered the bath chamber, she found herself awash with the fragrant steam rising from the immense tub. She stopped and whispered a tiny curse to herself when she knocked her hairbrush off the vanity: She would have to wait for Nikoa to pick it up for her, for her rather extended form now made bending over virtually impossible. She undid her fur-lined robe, letting it drop to the floor, and stepped into the sunken tub.

She let out a sigh of sheer bliss and leaned her head back as the warm water and sudsy foam enveloped and encircled her. The pain in her back began to lessen, and she imagined her limbs melting into the bath.

The baby began to dance and writhe within her womb, as he did almost every night at this time. I'Lai, her eyes closed, moved her hand over her expanded abdomen and smiled when she felt the heel of a tiny foot glide from left to right at the top of her swelled belly. Unconsciously, her hand moved from her belly up to brush against her breasts, now growing larger and fuller by the day as they readied themselves for her son's arrival into the world. A nipple slid between her wet fingers, and she pulled it gently, gasping as she felt her loins tighten in response. Her other hand began to travel down her wet nude body, but stopped just shy of its destination between her legs…

A wave of sadness suddenly washed over I'Lai. She dropped her head and covered her face with her hands. Since her victorious confrontation with Darth Vader months ago, Vader had never returned to her dreams. But neither had the image of Boba Fett.

She missed him. She longed for him. And she hated herself for it. She hated herself for having even a shred of hope that she had actually meant something to Fett. Why should she? She was merely a number in a long line of conquests for the infamous bounty hunter, of that she was certain. And here she was, pining after him like a simpleton, carrying a child he would never know he had… She hated herself because she had allowed herself to love him.

A memory infiltrated her thoughts, a memory from that night on the _Executor _all those months ago…

_"Wait…don't move," I'Lai had whispered as she gingerly reached toward Boba Fett's face. She had stretched her naked body alongside of Fett's, her leg entwined around his own as they both lay on the massive Arisand silk-strewn bed._

_Fett flinched. "What are you doing?"_

_"Sssh, hold still…you have an eyelash under your eye." With great care, she pinched the tiny hair from his lower eyelid, balancing it on her fingertip. She held it to his mouth. "There…now blow on it and make a wish."_

_He had knit his brows and curled the corner of his mouth upward. "Why would I do that?"_

_She had giggled. "What, didn't you ever play this as a child?"_

_His gaze remained constant as he replied, softly and bluntly, "I never played as a child."_

_She had lowered her hand and dropped her gaze, unsure what to say. "Oh…I'm …sorry."_

_They had said nothing for a while. It seemed that Fett had felt her awkwardness. He rolled his body over her, running his hand down her curving side, resting it on her hip. "I want to tell you something."_

_"Yes..?"_

_ His tone was simple, almost emotionless, and quiet when he said "You… are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." With that, he brushed his lips against the velvet flesh of her neck and pressed his bare body into her…_

As far as the rest of the galaxy's populace was concerned, he was a merciless, ruthless killer. But that was not what he was to her---he had shown her affection, passion, tenderness and, she could almost say, vulnerability. She suddenly thought of something she had said to Nikoa a few months back regarding Reynau Denivrian…_ Nobody knew him like I did. _Deep in her heart, she felt that the same was true of Boba Fett.

But now, more than ever before, it seemed hopeless. Even if Fett landed on Orri Prime tomorrow, he and I'Lai were in opposite camps of a galactic war, with Fett working for Vader and I'Lai now supplying and supporting the Rebel Alliance.

"Ah, little one", she cooed, caressing her belly. "Things were so much easier when your mother was merely an Imperial whore." She laughed a little at her self-deprecation as a single teardrop fell down her cheek to mix with the droplets of steam from her bath.

Suddenly, her eyesight went black. She shot up, gripping the sides of the tub. She was about to cry out for Nikoa when a bone-chilling howl screamed across her mind. Images flashed in front of her in rapid succession, almost too fast to comprehend…

Luke Skywalker, writhing in pain on a black floor, lightning enveloping and scorching his body, calling to his father—The Emperor laughing, lightning shooting from his hands---Vader in turmoil, then in rage---Vader attacking the Emperor, lifting him over his head, throwing him down a huge shaft---Fire, wind, explosions of heat and light and all the while the screaming---The Emperor screaming, screaming, reaching his withered hand upwards as he plunged down the shaft---

The screams suddenly had words, and the words were meant for I'Lai---

"I'Lai! Save me! I'll be father to your son; I'll make you the mother of an empire! _I'LAI!"_

I'Lai's limbs thrashed about in the tub as she gritted her teeth as the words echoed through her mind, over and over…

"Mother of the Empire! _MOTHER OF THE EMPIRE!"_

"NOOOOOO!" I'Lai shrieked back, her entire body arcing and her head thrown back. "Get out of my mind! _GET OUT!"_

The screaming suddenly faded as it fell down into the shaft of her visions, replaced by the near cries of Nikoa running into the bedchamber. I'Lai's vision returned and the bath chamber morphed into her reality once again…

"Your Ladyship! Your Ladyship! The Rebels have WON! The war is over!"

I'Lai, dazed and panting, desperately tried to focus her eyes as Nikoa burst into the bath chamber. "W...What?"

"Stitz just received an interplanetary message from the Alliance! There was a huge battle on Endor---two thirds of the Imperial Fleet was been wiped out, including the Executor! The new Death Star has been destroyed, Darth Vader is dead---the Emperor is dead! He's DEAD, I'Lai!" She picked up I'Lai's robe from the floor, raising it toward I'Lai with one hand and grabbing the towel off the rack with the other. "The Alliance has put forth an urgent request to set down here on Orri Prime—Lady I'Lai, please! Get out of the tub and get dressed! General Solo is requesting to speak to you personally! Come on, come on!" She assisted I'Lai to a standing position, furiously drying her naked body.

The cold air on her wet skin along with Nikoa's quick towelling helped snap I'Lai back to the moment. "W-What? The Rebellion…won?"

Nikoa stopped and gawked at I'Lai. "Your Ladyship, have you heard nothing I've said? General Han Solo is on the comlink right now in Stitz's office!" With a strength and speed of a woman half her age, Nikoa threw the robe around her and pulled I'Lai through the bedchamber out into the corridor.

They ran through the maze of halls in the palace, finally coming across a narrow door in the little-used southern wing. As I'Lai and Nikoa made their approach, the door swooshed open and revealed a beaming Captain Stitz.

"My Lady!" Stitz exclaimed, throwing his arms around I'Lai. She enthusiastically returned the embrace. "Quickly, General Solo wants to speak with you!"

I'Lai entered Stitz's clandestine headquarters and moved to the com. "Yes, General Solo, are you there?"

The channel crackled for a brief second, followed by a smooth yet obviously elated male voice. "Lady I'Lai, is that you? Han Solo here…yeah, yeah, Chewie, I think she knows we won by now!"

I'Lai felt that her chest would burst with joy. "Han, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice again!"

Han chuckled on the other end. "Yeah, well it feels pretty good to be able to talk again! Listen, we need a place to set down for a while—where we're at is still heavy Imperial territory, our medical frigate is pretty banged up and we have wounded that need tending. Requesting permission for landing clearance on Orri Prime."

"Of course, of course! Permission granted! I'll have medics and transports available at the space dock immediately upon your arrival!"

"That's great! We're only about five parsecs from you; we should be there in a couple hours. Hey, I'Lai—you still as pretty as I remember?"

Nikoa's and Stitz's smirks did nothing to diminish the growing blush in I'Lai's cheeks. Though she was grinning, she shot an annoyed glare at the both of them as her hand ran over her heavily pregnant stomach. "Well, Han", she stuttered, flushed and embarrassed, "I certainly hope you will think so…"

The sound of a light slap came over the comlink. "Ow! Hey, she's an old friend of mine---I was just—ow, quit it, Leia!"

A female's voice came over the speaker, her diplomatic tone doing nothing to hide her jealousy. "This is the Princess Leia Organa. I'm sorry, but General Solo must resume his duties piloting the ship. Over and out."

I'Lai raised her eyebrows as she stifled a giggle.

"Lady I'Lai", Stitz murmured. "The planet awaits your orders."

Her head was reeling from everything that had just occurred within the last fifteen minutes. She drew in a deep breath. "All right. Captain Stitz, put out a call to the Alliance flagship and inform them that their transports may land at the northern and southern spaceports. Then call all port com centers and have them notify all medical personnel to arrive at said ports with supplies and ambulary vehicles and take the Alliance wounded to the infirmaries. See if you can contact the Millennium Falcon again and inform General Solo that he may land in the palace's private port."

She turned to Nikoa and smiled from ear to ear. "Nikoa—we have a big celebration to plan. I leave that to you and the house staff. I think you know what to do."

Nikoa, a seasoned veteran in the palace's event planning, smiled and winked. "I'll get right on it, Madam." She turned to go but suddenly stopped as a thought crossed her mind. "Oh, Lady I'Lai—what about Magistrate Omin'da? What are we going to tell him?"

I'Lai folded her arms over her belly and tilted her head to one side. "Oh yes, the Magistrate…" A smirk stretched her mouth wide. "Tell him that he and Lady Omin'da will, unfortunately, going to have to vacate their palace and stay in the guest house out back—with, of course, Alliance security. We have many Rebel heroes coming to visit, and they will need a place to stay."


	4. The Birth

DISCLAIMER: All characters (sans those of my own creation) are the product and property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm, Ltd.

Episode 1

Chapter 4

The Birth

Neither the brisk early spring wind nor the overcast dawn did anything to discourage the bustling scene of preparation and sheer elation at the palace's spaceport. Mechanics scrambled to ready their tools for repair and inspection. Musicians set up their instruments to play their welcoming fanfare for the impending heroes. Scores of celebrants and well wishers crowded into every available free space the dock could afford them, carrying flasks and bottles of every kind of intoxicating beverage they could get their hands on.

As I'Lai stepped into the dock from the underground walkway, the crowd exploded into a symphony of cheers that bounced off the encircling cobalt-hued mountains, sending their music of joy and freedom reverberating up to the very heavens.

Nikoa arrived from the tunnel just in time to slap away several burly-bodied miners who where about to lift I'Lai upon their shoulders. "What do you think you are doing? You can't hoist her about in her condition! Shoo, scat, SHOO! Go…drink or something!"

A little girl, sitting on the strong shoulders of her miner father, pointed up into the sky. Her squealing shout could be heard even over the din of the joyful throng. "Listen! Up there! They're coming!"

All heads turned toward the direction of the two gargantuan mountain peaks the residents called Heavens Brace. A hush fell upon the crowd as they listened to the dull roar of a ship's engines that could not yet be seen through the dense cloud cover. It seemed the same thought ran through everyone's mind as they waited, including I'Lai's; What if it wasn't the Millennium Falcon? What if it was an Imperial scouting vessel clearing they way for the remainder of the Imperial fleet to blast the spacedock and everyone in it…?

The crowd's precautionary silence broke once again into deafening cheers as the Millennium Falcon parted the mists of the looming clouds and banked gracefully between Heavens Brace's twin peaks, gallantly circling above the dock as the scores of Orrian citizens cheered, applauded, laughed, and cried. The multitude then backed themselves away from the center of the dock, allowing the Falcon to elegantly descend and land in the middle of the throng.

The elated mass once again swarmed to the middle of the platform and the makeshift band struck up their instruments in a rousing fanfare as the Falcon's ramp opened. The first to emerge down the ramp was the Alliance's newly appointed general Han Solo, still dressed in his Endor camouflage duster. Before he could set foot on the landing platform, Han was swept off the ramp by several members of the enthusiastic crowd and set upon their shoulders, carrying him toward the tunnel entrance to a beaming Lady I'Lai.

"Whoa! Hey! Be careful down there! I'm more delicate than I look!" Han laughed.

Next to emerge through the Falcon's entry hatch was General Lando Calrissian, who was also hoisted up and paraded through the crowd. Lando laughed as well, shaking hands that were thrust at him from below with one hand and swigging out of a long, dark bottle with the other. "Now THIS is what I call a party!" 

Leia Organa came down the ramp next. Several pairs of hands grabbed for her to lift her as well, but suddenly backed off when the two and a half meter Wookiee behind her snarled and gnashed his teeth at the overly enthusiastic crowd. As they cleared the ramp, Chewbacca smiled down at the Princess and lifted her himself, carefully placing her on his massive shoulder. Leia giggled and leaned down to hug Chewbacca's thick neck as he strutted her through the crowd. 

The last human to emerge from the Falcon was the cloaked and hooded figure of Luke Skywalker. Luke stopped the encroaching crowd from lifting him with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head. The crowd fell back slightly, allowing Luke to stride down the ramp on his own power and stand quietly among them.

After the heroes were carried about for the whole assembly to see, they were then gently let down in front of I'Lai. Han stepped forward first, stretching out his arms. "I'Lai!" 

"Han!" I'Lai exclaimed as she tried to embrace him, only to have the girth of her belly intrude upon her joyous intention. She settled for taking both his hands into hers. "It is SO good to see you! Welcome!"

It was then Han looked down at I'Lai, his eyes and mouth widening. "I'Lai! W-When did this happen?" he stammered.

Again, I'Lai found herself flushed in the presence of Han Solo. "Oh…about nine months ago…"

Before Solo could reply, he felt himself suddenly pushed back slightly and Lando Calrissian's hand had quickly and mysteriously replaced his own in I'Lai's grip. "My Lady", Lando crooned as he lifted I'Lai's hand to his lips, "I do not believe we have been properly introduced. The name is Lando, Lando Calrissian." He looked up into I'Lai's eyes, smiling the smile which was known to much of the female populace in the galaxy and gently massaging her slim fingers. "You know, I used to head up a mining operation myself. Perhaps you and I could…get together and compare bottom lines sometime…"

I'Lai became giddy and flustered, and could think of nothing to say. She simply giggled and brought her hand to her mouth, looking down. Solo, rivaling Lando's speed and finesse, came around and laid a firm arm around Lando's shoulders with droll laughter. "I'Lai, you'll have to forgive my friend. He's…well, he's…he's an idiot."

Lando snapped his head toward Han. "Hey!"

Still smiling, Han turned Lando around in a slow circle and whispered, "What is the matter with you? Can't you see she's about eight years pregnant?"

Lando smiled and shrugged. "Hey, what can I say? That's when women are their most beautiful." He turned back and sneaked a wink back to I'Lai.

I'Lai stepped toward Leia, extending her hand. "You must be the Princess Leia Organa. I can't tell you what a supreme honor it is to have you here on Orri Prime. You are most happily welcome, your Highness." She lifted Leia's hand and touched it to her bowed head.

Leia was pleasantly startled by I'Lai's formal greeting; no one had performed this courtly salutation for her since before Alderaan had been destroyed. She looked up into I'Lai's eyes, and felt her earlier jealousy melt away, replaced by a warm sense of serenity and kinship. Leia herself was almost staggered by her radiance. Luke had been right about this woman---she was most definitely a powerful beacon for the Light of the Force. 

Leia returned the courtly greeting, touching her forehead to I'Lai's hand. "Lady I'Lai, the Alliance is entirely in your debt. We cannot thank you or the entire populace of Orri Prime enough for all your help and support during our struggles against the Empire."

I'Lai's smile grew even wider as she enveloped Leia's hands into her own. "You won the war, your Highness. That is all the thanks we require here. That and the great pleasure of your company at tonight's festivities." She turned to Han and Lando, extending her hand. "All of you must be exhausted! If you please, Nikoa here will escort you to your guest chambers. All that you require will be provided." 

Solo came up beside Leia, slipping his arm around her small waist. He leaned into her ear and whispered, "So, Your Worship, shall we request adjoining suites?"

Leia gave Han a sidelong glance and a wry smile. "Oh, I don't think so, General Solo." She purposely waited for the disappointed look on Han's face before she spun around and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I was under the impression that we would be _sharing_ a room. Less wasteful that way."

Han's face brightened. "Your Holiness, I like the way you think. Always the model of efficiency." With that, he lifted her off the ground and passionately kissed her as he carried her through the tunnel entry.

Lando suddenly caught the face and frame of a voluptuous, red-haired female celebrant, who returned his look with a sly smile and wink. "All that I require, hmm?" As the others started walking through the entry of the tunnel back to the palace, he swung around and slipped an arm around the girl's waist. "Hi, my name is Lando---have you ever seen the inside of a palace…?" The girl giggled and shook her head as they joined the throng of people now escorting their heroes with song and fanfare down the tunnel.

I'Lai gave Chewbacca a kiss and tickle as he passed her to join the others, then turned to see the cloaked figure of Luke Skywalker standing alone near the Falcon. The remainder of the crowd passed her as she made her way to the lone Jedi.

"Luke…" she murmured, her eyes imploring and wide. "Did…did you find Boba Fett?"

Luke said nothing, gazing intently into her eyes. I'Lai felt her joy begin to seep away as she read the answer to her question in his eyes. Fighting to control her trembling lip, she whispered, "What happened?"

Luke sighed. "There was a battle over the Pit of Carcoon on Tatooine. Fett was trying to kill me, and Han saved my life. Fett…fell into the mouth of a giant beast called the Saarlac. He---"

"No, Luke don't, please", I'Lai said quietly, raising her hand and pushing her tears back hard. "Don't say anymore." She turned away, bowing her head.

Luke stepped forward and put his cybernetic hand on her shoulder. "It was an accident, I'Lai. I had every intention of taking Fett alive and bringing him here. You have to believe me."

I'Lai turned and looked at Luke through tear-soaked eyes. "I do believe you, Luke. But it doesn't make it any easier to bear, does it?" Her arms came up to encircle her belly as she embraced her unborn son.

Luke's heart sank. He was still the only one who knew I'Lai's secret, and he had detested having to bring this news to her. Though the entire galaxy seemed to be celebrating the death of the Emperor and his ruthless henchman Darth Vader, he had been mourning the loss of his father, Anakin Skywalker. And now it seemed he was no longer alone in grieving for the loss of someone no one else truly understood...

"I'Lai…I wish there was something I could do…"

She smiled slightly through her tears and took Luke's hand. "You could join me tonight at the celebration. Please come." They slowly walked toward the tunnel entrance as the port mechanics gathered around the Millennium Falcon to begin their maintenance work.

* * * 

Although impressive without decoration, Grand Mountain Hall on this night had never looked more dazzling. Once a huge durasteel mine, the mountain had been hollowed out over the last few centuries and was now used as an immense gathering hall. The ceiling of the place spanned hundreds of meters from the cavern floor, and on this night, lit candles had been placed on every crag and jutting rock reaching to the very top. The floor itself also spanned hundreds of meters wide, with a small natural lake set in the center. Votives and flowers were strewn across the water, emitting light and sweet fragrance throughout the massive mountain chamber. Set around the lake were scores of tables heavily laden with immense trays of food and hundreds of bottles of drink to which the thousands of guests happily helped themselves. Those who were not eating or drinking were dancing wildly and feverishly on the enormous dance floor to the joyful, manic music played by the amateur orchestra of miners, technicians, and anyone else who could halfway carry a tune on the instrument they owned.

The Rebel soldiers and pilots, male and female, human and non, were beside themselves with the vast amount of attention they were receiving. Orrian males and females of every size, age, and race doted on and fought over the Rebel heroes, offering them various ways of "appreciation" not covered in the Rebel Alliance Protocol Handbook. Many newly acquainted couples could be seen disappearing into the numerous small caves and tunnels the mountain hall provided for a little more privacy than the raucous celebration would allow them.

Chewbacca was one of them. Being more than just a little in his cups after hours of celebrating, he let out an ear-splitting roar when he saw a young one hundred year old female Wookiee giving him a traditional mating stare from across the dance floor. The dancing celebrants parted the dance floor like a storm-tossed sea as Chewbacca sped across to the female and hoisted her up on his shoulder without so much as a Wookiee hello, carrying the giggling Wookiee female off into one of the darkened mountain clefts.

Han Solo joined the rest of the crowd in their rounds of laughter and applause. "Wookiees---not entirely known for their smooth talk!" He looked down at Princess Leia in his arms, who was still laughing heartily at Chewbacca's triumphant match. Han smiled even wider---he had never seen Leia laugh this much or be this happy, and it warmed him down to his soul.

He hadn't been able to take his eyes off her all night. I'Lai had given Leia one of her gowns to wear for the evening; he chuckled as he recalled how they all had laughed when the gown was miles too long on Leia when she first tried it on. But I'Lai's lady's maid Nikoa had been quite deft with a needle and thread, and had altered the pale sea-foam green dress to adorn Leia perfectly in just a few hours. Then Nikoa had plaited Leia's hair into a simple single braid and wove in tiny garlands of mountain flowers and pearls. _She is so beautiful, _Han thought to himself_, but she was most beautiful when she shared my bed for the very first time today…_

It seemed the only people not dancing, drinking, or carousing were Luke Skywalker and I'Lai. They sat next to each other at the head table that was set on a low precipice overlooking the vast chamber. Although many young and attractive women approached Luke all evening, he merely smiled and politely declined their invitations to dance as well as invitations to engage in less… _public _entertainments. His intense dedication to the Jedi ways discouraged him from engaging in frivolous sexual escapades, and his heart still felt heavy from the loss of his father only two days prior_._ He also felt that I'Lai could use some company. _ Besides_, he had thought himself, _I'm really not much of a dancer._

Leia stole a quick glance toward I'Lai seated at the head table with Luke. She furrowed her brow a tiny bit. "I find it a little odd that Luke never mentioned I'Lai's pregnancy." She tilted her head slightly. "And amidst all this celebration, she looks…so sad…"

Han shrugged a bit. "Well, I guess it's not much fun being at a party if you can't dance."

Leia shook her head, still gazing at I'Lai. Her tone became soft, almost distant, and her eyes seemed to glaze for a moment. "No, that's not it…it's something else…"

Han became concerned by Leia's trance-like state. "Leia, are you all right?"

She turned her gaze back up to Han, suddenly aware again. "Hmm…what?"

"You were doing it again, that Force thing." Han seemed more worried than irritated.

Leia exhaled with a tiny laugh. "Oh…yes, I'm sorry, Han." Grinning mischievously and tightening her arms around his waist, Leia changed the subject. "Does looking at her give you any ideas, hot shot?"

Han returned the mischievous grin as he leaned down and breathed into her ear, "Well, I thought this afternoon was a pretty good beginning," stealing a nibble of her earlobe. He felt a tingle of excitement trickle up his spine as Leia gasped and nuzzled her cheek against his neck, pulling him even closer to her. Han momentarily broke the embrace, looking down at her with concerned eyes. "You're sure I didn't hurt you, Leia?"

Leia calmed his concern with a warm smile and softly touching his face. "No, Han, not at all." She slipped her hands behind his neck, pulling his lips closer to hers. "I love you, Han", she whispered as she pressed her lips to his in a soft, hungry kiss. As they parted, Han lifted Leia by the waist and spun her in a circle. Leia threw back her head and let out a brilliant, sparkling laugh.

Luke felt his heart swell with love and happiness for his sister and his best friend as he watched Han and Leia. He was glad to see them free and careless---the years of war, struggle, danger and devastating loss had left little time for anything else. He knew the coming weeks would bring new challenges and strives, for Luke was not so naïve to believe that the war was truly over. But these were not things to dwell on this evening. This night was about freedom and joy.

He turned to I'Lai seated on his left. She was watching Han and Leia as well, but Luke sensed immediately that she was not sharing his same feelings for the couple. Her expression was blank and emotionless. He also noticed that she had not touched any of the food on her plate or the drink in her cup.

"I'Lai," Luke murmured, reaching for her hand, "are you all right?"

I'Lai stared ahead, never averting her eyes from the couple. "They're in love, aren't they?" she asked softly, almost inaudibly.

"Yes, they are," Luke replied. He saw I'Lai's lower lip quiver slightly, and she blinked only once, but again, she did not look away from Han and Leia. 

Luke squeezed her hand. I'Lai finally broke her gaze from the couple to turn to Luke. The blank expression on her face had melted into one of extreme sadness.

"I'Lai," Luke said softly, taking her hand in both of his, "I…just wanted to tell you that I am so terribly sorry for your loss."

I'Lai's expression softened as she gently placed her hand on Luke's. She gazed into Luke's eyes as she stated, "As I am for the loss of your father, Master Skywalker." She smiled slightly when she saw the stunned look in his eyes. "Yes, Luke…I knew."

Luke smiled back, and nodded his acknowledgement. "Thank you, I'Lai."

I'Lai's smile was suddenly broken by a wince of pain and a soft cry. Luke felt it as well—a sharp, piercing pain in what seemed to be his bowels. He saw I'Lai's eyes widen, her hand pressing against her belly, taking in short, hard breaths.

"Luke…I think I'm having a baby…_now_."

"W-What? _NOW_?" Luke jumped from his seat and knelt at I'Lai's side. "Ok…ok…we'll get you back to the palace." He turned and shouted toward the dance floor. "Han! Leia!" But the couple couldn't hear him over the din of the party. Luke then closed his eyes and sent a silent telepathic message to his sister…

Leia's head snapped around toward the head table, and her smile melted into an expression of concern. She tugged at Han's suede tunic. "Han, we have to go. I'Lai just went into labor."

Han stopped dancing and gawked at Leia. "What! How do you know?"

"Luke just told me."

Han huffed, shaking his head. "You two are going to drive me crazy with that." His eyes scanned over the crowd. "Damn it, where's Lando?"

"I don't know—he keeps disappearing every hour with a different girl."

Han took Leia's hand as they pushed their way toward Luke and I'Lai. Han turned toward the crevice Chewbacca was last seen entering. "Chewie! Chewie, get out here! We have a baby coming!"

Thanks to his superior Wookiee sense of hearing, Chewbacca had miraculously heard his partner's call through the crowd. He came barreling out of the small cave adjusting his bandolier, then doubled back slightly and gave his new Wookiee girlfriend a quick bite on the lips before rushing to the head table.

Several celebrants had heard Han's exclamation. Heads turned and relayed the message to those around them, and soon the news rippled throughout the entire assembly. Buzzing and cheering were heard anew for the impending birth of Orri Prime's new little prince.

I'Lai clamped her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as she endured the next contraction, almost breaking Luke's hand as she squeezed it with alarming strength . "I don't think they'd be cheering if they knew how this felt!"

Having reached the precipice, Chewbacca gingerly lifted I'Lai into his arms and carried her into the rear tunnel, followed by Luke, Han, and Leia. They hurried the short distance to the parked speeder transport inside, where they found a mysteriously moving, moaning, and giggling blanket in the rear seats…

Han slapped one of the moving lumps. A resounding "OW!" was heard from beneath the blanket. The blanket flew up to reveal a shirtless and irritated Lando Calrissian, himself blanketing a shirtless blond and alarmed Fellenetian female. "What the—"

"Party's over, Lover! We're driving your room back to the palace. I'Lai's having her baby," Han gruffed as he assisted Leia into the middle section seat. 

The poor Fellentian lass scrambled out of the rear seat, holding her mechanic's shirt over her breasts as Chewbacca gently placed I'Lai in her vacated seat. Lando furiously donned his own shirt again as he ran to the front passenger seat, yelling back to the girl, "Hey—it was really nice to meet you!" He was a bit stunned by the ferocity of the girl's obscene hand gesture as she stormed back to the party.

As Luke climbed into the rear seat next to I'Lai, Han hopped over the side of the speeder to land in the seat right next to Leia. Chewbacca squeezed himself into the driver's seat and started up the speeder, and they took off through the intricate turns and dips of the old mining tunnels as they sped back to I'Lai's palace.

I'Lai gasped as another contraction hit and was struggling to hold her scream back into her throat. Leia turned around and took I'Lai's hand, her eyes heavy with worry and sympathy. Luke wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her close. "I'Lai," he whispered into her hair, "you can use the Force. It will help to alleviate the pain…just breathe and let it flow through you…gently…let it take your pain…"

As Luke's words melted into her ears, I'Lai allowed the Force to flow and infiltrate her limbs and mind. She felt her own energy bind and flow with the Force, and the pain began to ebb away from her body. Her breathing began to slow and become deeper and calmer, and her spirit seemed to rise from her body, becoming one with the air, the peaks and forests of her world, the stars and the universe itself…

She felt as though she were flying, dancing through nebulae and star formations, speeding faster than light itself…until she found herself riding along the intense eddy of a desert wind on a yellow planet she had never seen before.

She stood in a never-ending sea of sand and unbearable heat, the light of the planet's twin suns baking the very wind of the world, although she herself did not seem to suffer. The place was devoid of anything living or moving…until she saw in the distance the figure of what seemed to be a man, struggling to remain on his feet, fighting the ensuing storm of sand and wind… 

I'Lai felt every molecule of her essence ignite as she recognized the form in the distance. Again, she made herself one with the wind and rode toward the figure just as he lost his battle to remain on his feet, falling into the sands. She knelt before him, reaching out, trying to touch the figure's badly scarred and cracked helmet. Her voice seemed to rise from nowhere… "Boba…?"

The helmet's T-shaped visor lifted from the sand, tilting slightly as the eyes behind the visor tried to make sense of what they saw before him. A tattered glove reached up toward her incandescent hand. His voice rose from his throat, hoarse and damaged from exhaustion and debilitating thirst. "I'Lai…?"

She tried to take his outstretched hand, but found her own merely passed through his like a shimmering shadow. Fett started a low, bitter laugh, pounding his fist into the sand. I'Lai felt her very soul penetrated by his rage and hopelessness and the insufferable pain of his injuries.

She abruptly felt herself pulled away, up into the storm, the arid atmosphere…

"No!" I'Lai cried, still reaching for the badly injured Fett as she floated upwards, "Not yet! Please…"

Back into the blackness of space, hurling and weaving until she was, once again, traveling through the mining tunnels with the Rebel heroes…

I'Lai's eyes snapped open as she gasped and jerked forward. "He's alive!" she whispered. She turned to Luke, who was still holding her and wearing an expression of intense concern. "Luke, he's ALIVE!"

Han turned around. "Who's alive?"

Luke leaned into I'Lai. "Are you sure, I'Lai? Show me."

I'Lai took one of Luke's hands and placed it on her heart, bowing her head and closing her eyes. Luke immediately saw Boba Fett crossing the Dune Sea on foot, using a staff that he had obviously appropriated from a Tusken Raider during his journey. He saw the condition of Fett's armor, which was cracked and flaked and badly scarred from the harsh digestive acids of the Saarlac. He felt Fett's fury and fortitude as he staggered forward, refusing to die, refusing to lie down…

Luke opened his eyes, looked down at I'Lai. "He's in bad shape, I'Lai. It may not be much longer…"

I'Lai gripped Luke's hands in both of hers, her eyes large and pleading, the tremor of a sob in her voice. "Luke, please, we have to go get him and bring him here…_please_…"

"Go get who? Bring who here?" Han demanded, a mix of irritation and frustration in his voice.

Luke turned briefly to Han, then back to I'Lai. "Shall I tell them, I'Lai?"

I'Lai paused, then lowered her eyes and nodded. Luke turned to Han and the others and stated, "The father of I'Lai's son—"

"Boba Fett," Leia finished, her voice soft and calm. She lifted her gaze to meet I'Lai's tear-drenched eyes. She too had seen the vision, and Leia now understood the sadness she felt in I'Lai, the great sense of loss and despair she had detected in her heart throughout the day.

For several long moments, as the speeder made its way through the maze of tunnels, its occupants sat in stunned silence.

It was Han Solo who broke the silence. "Come again?"

"It's a long story," I'Lai breathed. She turned to Luke again. "Luke, please, someone must try to rescue him. I'll pay anything, I'll give whatever is needed or desired—"

"I'Lai," Luke interrupted gently, "That may not be wise…Fett is a very dangerous man—"

"And Vader wasn't?" I'Lai growled harshly. She was immediately ashamed as she saw Luke's eyes darken and felt him stiffen. "I'm sorry, please forgive me, Luke, but…just what you felt in Vader, I feel in Fett. If there is any chance for him to know about his son, to perhaps be at peace after all this time…if he may be willing, doesn't he deserve a chance at redemption as well? Please…?"

Luke did not answer, nor did anyone else in the speeder as it pulled up to the underground palace entry.

* * *

Luke, Han, Leia, Lando, and Chewbacca had been waiting in virtual silence for hours in the plush sitting room of I'Lai's chambers. Han sat on the overstuffed divan with Leia leaning into him. Luke sat cross-legged on the floor in a traditional Jedi meditation pose. Chewbacca preferred to stand, leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his massive furred chest. Lando was the only one who seemed agitated, rising every once and a while and pacing the length of the room, then sitting again. All were still reeling from the information they had just learned, none quite sure what to think or how to feel.

It was Lando who broke the uncomfortable silence. He stood and paced over to Luke, glowering over him. "You knew, didn't you? The whole time we fought him on Tatooine?" he asked. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"She asked me not to," Luke replied stoically. He looked up at Lando from his seated position. "She knew we were trying to save our friend, and she didn't feel she could ask you to save your enemy. So she asked me." Luke turned to Han, who did not return Luke's glance, but stared straight ahead. "I had planned to take him alive and bring him here before heading to Dagobah and the Alliance rendezvous. But it didn't work out that way."

"Were you ever going to mention it?" Han asked bitterly, still staring ahead.

Luke sighed, closing his eyes. "I thought it best if you didn't know, Han. I thought I could get Fett here before…before you killed him."

Han's only movement was a turn of his head in Luke's direction. He said nothing, but merely stared coldly at his young Jedi friend.

"We have to go get him," Leia said abruptly.

Han turned his stone-cold glare to Leia this time. "Why, Leia? Why do we have to get him?" He shot his glare toward Chewbacca as the Wookiee sharply barked at him. "Who asked YOU, fur ball?"

"Because," Leia retorted, sternly meeting his gaze, "if it weren't for I'Lai, we never would have come as far as we have in this war. Without her resources and intelligence work and without her connections with the Bothans, the Rebel Alliance would have been wiped out months ago. We owe her that much to bring back the father of her child." Leia softened slightly as she added, "Besides…she loves him. You don't have to be a Force-sensitive to see that."

Han snorted through his nose and shook his head. "Yeah, well, I don't understand the attraction."

Leia never averted her eyes as she held Han's gaze. "And there are some out there who say the same about you and me, Han. Are _they_ right?" 

Leia's statement startled Han, but his pride and anger at that moment would not allow him to admit that she was right. He angrily stood up and paced toward the wall, running his hand through his thick brown hair. Flustered, Leia leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees as she glanced sideways toward her brother.

The chamber door opened, and Dr. Him'bron walked out looking tired yet elated. He smiled at the gathering of heroes as they eagerly awaited his report. "Mother and son are just fine, perfectly healthy both of them. His new Lordship is, quite simply, one of the most beautiful babies I have ever seen." Him'bron turned to Luke as he stood, taking his hand in a friendly shake. "I don't know what you have taught her, Master Skywalker, but she had absolutely no pain or distress during the delivery. I would like to thank you personally for all your help."

"I did nothing, Dr. Him'bron, but give her some coaching. The Lady I'Lai is an exceptional pupil."

Him'bron turned to the rest of the group. "You may see her tomorrow, but right now she and her son need rest. Now if you all will excuse me, I must prepare the birth announcement for the rest of the planet. Good night." With that, the doctor performed a slight bow and left the sitting room.

As the corridor doors hushed closed, Lando stood from his seat. "I'll go," he stated simply. "I'll go get Fett."

"I'll go with you," Luke replied.

Lando shook his head. "No, Luke, the Alliance needs you now. Things are going to get real serious real fast again. You need to stay here with Leia and get things organized with Mon Mothma and the Rebel leaders. I think a degenerate gambler like me can be spared for a couple days." Once again, Lando's patented smile spread across his face. "Besides, Fett's not at a hundred percent, right? You can't argue with those odds." Lando looked over to Chewbacca. "Chewie, you in?" Chewie rumbled his enthusiastic affirmation.

Han Solo turned away from the wall, folding his arms over his chest as he glared at Lando. "Since you're taking my first mate, Lando, do you think you're taking my ship as well? Not without me, friend."

Lando met Han's stare, pausing for a moment. "You sure you want to do this, buddy?" He took a step closer towards Han, adding, "Can you keep a cool head? And get the job done without getting personal?"

Han could feel everyone's eyes on him as they awaited his answer. His lip curled up in a tight, sarcastic smile. "Hey, you know me, right? I always keep a cool head. I'm a pro." With that, Han slowly strode out the door, leaving the rest with a feeling of anxious uncertainty.

* * *


	5. Running With The Devil

DISCLAIMER: I make no money off this and all characters (sans those of my own creation) are the product and property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm, Ltd.

Lyrics to "Running With the Devil" written and owned by Van Halen, copyright 1979

Episode 1

Chapter 5

Running With The Devil

For the first time since he began his agonizing journey across the Dune Sea of Tatooine, Boba Fett voluntarily rested his cracked and battered bones upon the desert sands. Tatooine's twin suns had risen and fallen nine cycles during his trek, and Fett himself was surprised that he was still alive and breathing. But he knew it wouldn't be for long. 

His wounds were becoming gangrenous---there was no mistaking the odor. The intense heat had greatly weakened the antibiotics he carried in the small med-kit in his armor. He had consumed his last amino packet five days earlier, inedible as it was due to the Saarlac's stomach acids' contamination. He had stopped counting how many times a day his vision would blur or black out completely. Miraculously, the rehydrating system in his armor had held out somewhat, purifying and reconstituting his perspiration back into his body; but even now, that system too was on the verge of joining all the others in complete shutdown.

His remote comlink to the _Slave 1_, his jetpack, flamethrowers, even the infrared and motion detecting systems in his helmet had given out days ago. The only functioning items Fett had available to him now was the blaster he had scavenged from the dead barge guard and the not-so high tech gaffi stick he had appropriated from a now-dead Tusken Raider; the latter item he used more as a crutch now than a weapon. With every passing day, another piece of plating deteriorated and fell off his armor. Fett had been forced to rely upon his own skill and instincts for survival and wondered, as he sat and looked out upon the endless ocean of sand dunes and islands of jagged rocks, if these attributes were more of a curse than a blessing.

He was dying; there was no denying it anymore. Even if Jabba's palace sprawled just beyond the next dune, he would never make it over the crest.

Fett started to laugh as he finally succumbed to the delirium he had been ferociously fighting for days. _Scourge of the galaxy, most feared hunter in the entire Empire, the FETT,_ he silently growled in his feverish mind. _So this is to be your grave--- the side of a sand dune on a filthy latrine of a planet…your grave…_

His focus scattered and his will waning, Fett's thoughts raced and tumbled, one into the next. In an instant he found himself a mere boy again on Geonosis, standing over a makeshift grave he had dug …staring at the crude headstone he himself had carved bearing the initials "J.F."

"Father…" Fett whispered. Again, he laughed, drinking in the irony of it all---a Jedi killed his father, and now he was about to die because of a Jedi…but there was a difference. There would be no son to bury Boba Fett.

_No son…no one…who in this universe will mourn my death…?_

_There could have been someone…_

There was no reason to fight her any longer; for the first time since that night on the Executor, Boba Fett invited and embraced the memory of I'Lai.

Until this moment, he had furiously tried to block her from his mind, to forget her existence, her face, her laugh… but all attempts had proven useless. She still crept into his dreams the few times he allowed himself sleep. The satin touch of her skin still haunted him in those few times of quiet, when there was no hunt, no chase. No matter how much work he would take on, as one job flowed into the next, it was never enough to blot her out, to be completely rid of her.

There had been women before her; cantina whores, pleasure slaves offered up by employers as part of his purse, spoils of his hunts who foolishly thought they could buy their freedom by exchanging their bodies...they had meant nothing to him. They _were_ nothing to him. 

But then came I'Lai_… I'Lai…_

He had been shaken, maddened and plagued by her and he couldn't understand why…until that very moment, as he sat in the sand under Tatooine's twin suns, roasting in his crumbling armor.

He recalled the moment he had lunged at her, pinning her to the sofa in his suite, unleashing his rage and revealing everything that he was to her in that moment---even to this day, he himself did not fully understand why he had done so---and then he remembered how she had reacted to him, how she looked into his eyes…

In her eyes he saw no fear, no terror. What Boba Fett had seen in I'Lai's eyes was… _recognition._

In that brief spark of a moment, I'Lai had reached down into Fett's very soul and understood _everything, _all of it. She had seen a being that Fett himself had forgotten existed. The only other person in his life who had ever looked at him like that had been Jango Fett, his father.

And then she _gave_ herself to him. He had actually given her the option to leave, but she chose to stay. She hadn't stayed because she was afraid to go, or to use her charms as a bargaining chip, or because of his infamy or his money or his reputation. She had stayed because she wanted to be with _him._

As Boba Fett had used everyone and everything he had ever encountered throughout his entire life, so had _he_ been used as well--- until the moment I'Lai had touched his lips, his body, and his heart to hers…

_You never even told her goodbye._

Fett tried to clear his mind for a moment as he focused hard on the dunes in front of him, hoping perhaps he could conjure the hallucination he had experienced the day before. I'Lai had seemed so real, so present and so beautiful as she reached for him and murmured his name…

But the image did not come this time. He found himself staring into nothing but barren wasteland.

Fett closed his eyes. He felt the last pulses of consciousness begin to wane. He leaned his helmet forward to rest on his knees and, with great effort, breathed the words he should have said to her all those months ago…

"I'Lai…farewell."

* * *

"This is the _Kronus_ to Palace control, do you copy? Over." Lando repeated into the comlink, using the _Millennium Falcon's_ alias. Nothing but cold static greeted him from the other end. "Requesting permission to land. Do you copy?" Again, he was answered by static.

Lando glanced sideways toward Han Solo in the pilot's seat, who met his glance with equal unease. "That's not good, is it?"

Han took a deep breath and blew it out. "Well, I guess it depends on your point of view, friend." He reached up and flicked the switches to the _Falcon's_ gravity control as they skidded through Tatooine's atmosphere, the dunes and cliffs meshing into a huge gold dusted tapestry just below the cockpit windows. "Could be good for us if the slaves revolted after the news of Jabba's death got back to the palace." He rose from the pilot's seat and started toward the hold. "Hey Chewie! You got everything set?"

Chewbacca looked up and barked his affirmation as he loaded the last gas cartridge into his laser crossbow. Han stood and took a quick inventory of the layout of medical equipment and weapons they had brought. "Looks good, Chewie." Han donned his gun belt, and then slung a blaster rifle over his shoulder. "OK, take the helm. You're going to drop Lando and me at the front palace gate through the belly hatch. Then take her around and dock her in the back alpha port---Lando and I will meet you there. Hook her up to the refueling station, and then try to find us a working speeder."

Chewbacca grunted and nodded as he headed toward the cockpit.

"And Chewie," Han added as Chewbacca turned back to him, "Stick close to the _Falcon_, ok? And keep your eyes open." 

Chewbacca nodded again, then strode through the cockpit door.

Lando had risen from the co-pilot's chair, about to join Han in the hold. As Chewbacca passed him, he reached out, gently grabbed Lando's arm and quietly growled a request.

Lando smiled slightly, patting Chewbacca's paw on his arm. "Don't worry, Chewie. I'll keep my eye on him. I won't let him do anything stupid." He then turned and joined Han in the hold.

A blaster rifle lobbed through the air greeted Lando as he came through the door: He expertly caught it while barely looking up. He watched Han move toward a small compartment positioned close to the floor and open its hatch.

Han Solo's strict business-like demeanor had bothered Lando throughout the entire trip. Even in the direst of circumstances, Han was always good for a wisecrack here and there, making light of the fact they could be blown to bits at any given second; but not this time. He had barely spoken a word, outside of dictating coordinates, since their departure from Orri Prime. "Hey Han," Lando said as he slipped the strap the medical satchel over his shoulder. As Han looked back over his shoulder toward him, Lando paused for a brief moment before continuing. "How are you feeling, buddy? You OK?"

Han's expression remained blank and unreadable as he answered, "I'm fine, Lando. Never better. Here---" With that, he reached in and pulled out two free-breathers. He tossed one to Lando, who once again caught it with graceful expertise. "You may want to put that on before we go in."

Puzzled, Lando turned it over in his hand. "What's this for?"

Han stood up, slipping the mask over his head as he turned toward Lando. "If we find what I think we'll find down there," Han said dully, "you won't be able to stand the smell."

* * *

The _Falcon_ reared off and made a graceful bank around the bulk of Jabba the Hutt's palace, leaving Han and Lando standing just meters down the winding road in front of the palace's massive metal gate. As they approached the entrance, the electronic eyeball of the perimeter droid thrust out from its portal in the door, squealing its programmed threats and curses in Huttese. 

Lando lazily raised his rifle and groaned, "Yeah, yeah, geeby-jeeby this," as he blasted the thing into bits.

Han strode to the side of the entrance and ran his hand along the wall until his fingers came upon a slight depression. He pushed in, and a large slab of stone came forward a few centimeters, and then slid aside to reveal a computer panel.

Han threw a look toward Lando. "Thinking happy thoughts, friend?"

Lando smiled through his breather mask and cocked his head. "Sendin' em right at'cha, buddy."

Han flexed his fingers for a moment, then gingerly punched in the code he had struggled to remember the entire trip on the panel's keyboard. He and Lando stood perfectly still, simultaneously holding their breaths…

With a rusty deafening screech, the huge metal gate began to slowly rise.

Han and Lando both heaved a sigh in relief and hit each other's palms in a high five. "Leave it to Jabba, the most dangerous and feared gangster in the galaxy, to never change his security codes in twenty years," Han scoffed. "Moron."

"Ok, buddy," Lando said as he raised his rifle into position, "Let's lock and load."

They stepped out of the blistering rays of the twin suns into the murky dimness of the palace entrance hall, weapons raised, small searchlights mounted atop the muzzles. As they moved the lights up, down, and across the expansive corridor, they both began to realize that Han's earlier assumption of a slave uprising was proving true in a most gruesome way.

"Gods and Hells," Lando breathed through his mask, "Look at this place."

The decomposing and mutilated corpses of a dozen or so Gamorrean guards littered the floor. Some were already half-devoured by the variety of scavengers indigenous to Tatooine, whose scratches and scurries could be heard within the blood-spattered walls as they escaped the onslaught of harsh daylight.

Lando reached up and wiped his watering eyes. "And you weren't kidding about the smell."

Han walked over and kicked his boot against one of the corpses, lying decapitated on the ground. He quickly scanned the others around him. "They took all the weapons. Damn. That means they probably took all the working vehicles in the place too." He turned to Lando. "Let's hope they didn't take Fett's ship."

"Last time I saw it, it was docked in the beta port. That was the day Leia and Chewbacca showed up in disguise. It may still be there."

"Ok, let's go. Stay sharp though—we may not be the only ones enjoying a tour."

They weaved through the network of dank burrows and corridors, occasionally stumbling over bodies and pieces of bodies as they made their way to the smaller dock. Luckily, they found no other living being save for the intermittent womprat that scampered across their path. After several more minutes of traveling, Han and Lando came upon the entry to the beta dock.

As they cautiously entered the dock, they saw that Fett's ship, _Slave I_, was the only ship occupying the space. They also saw the bodies of a dancing girl, two galley slaves, and a Gamorrean guard lying on the ground surrounding the ship.

"Good, it's still here," Han muttered.

Lando nodded absently, still hugging the entrance, surveying the bodies on the ground and their positions. He noted that they all lay on their backs with blast holes gouged directly over their hearts. They lay with their heads pointed away the ship, as though the shots had come from its direction. He also noted that none of them were armed, and there seemed to be no blast burns on the walls or floor, no evidence that a battle had gone on here, and that the bodies were lined approximately within the same distance in a wide semi-circle surrounding the _Slave I_. Something wasn't right about this…

Han picked the comlink off his belt. "Chewie, we found Fett's ship. We'll be bringing it around to meet you there. Out." Han switched off the link and began to walk toward the ship's hatch…

Suddenly, the answer to his own mental questions slammed Lando hard, and he screamed, "Han, no! STOP!"

Han stopped abruptly and turned to Lando, annoyed. "What?"

Just as Solo stopped and turned, two scanning beams shot forth from just beneath the _Slave I's _top-mounted blaster turret, 'painting' Han in a graph of green light. Almost instantly, as the beams crossed his body, four small black spherical pods erupted from the hull below the lip of the cockpit window and sliced through the air. Small turret barrels popped from the top of each sphere, and red targeting lasers shot forth from the center of all four, each pointing directly at the middle of Han Solo's back.

Lando burst into a run and dove through the air, tackling Han and sending them both careening to the ground as each sphere shot a flurry of repetitive blasts directly at the spot Han had just been standing. The blasts crossed each other as they sizzled the air and struck the stone walls surrounding the port entry. The air was thick with the smell of scorched rock and ozone.

Lando and Han rolled a few meters under and away from the ship, only stopping when they hit the back wall. Just as instantaneously as they had jettisoned, the deadly spheres were sucked back into their housings in the _Slave I's_ hull. Lando and Han lay on their stomachs on the dock floor for several moments of silence, covering their heads, panting and staggered. 

As he listened to the ensuing quiet and peeked out from under arms over his head, the usually unflappable Han Solo allowed himself a rare vulgar expletive. "What the _FUCK_ was that?" he yelled.

"That, my friend, was a Kaminoan genome scanner," Lando answered, remarkably collected as he sat up and brushed himself off. "I had the same technology installed on Cloud City protecting the treasury vaults. Only mine was linked to an alarm---Fett's got his wired into a Mandelorian Perimeter Defense System. An older technology, but deadly and efficient nonetheless." He reached up and patted the top of his head, where one of the blasts had actually singed the tips of his hair. He shook his head. "The hatch is encoded directly to Fett's DNA. Nobody can even get close to that ship without him." He paused for a moment, adding, "Or at least a piece of him."

Han huffed in utter aggravation and rolled over onto his back, staring into the Tatooine sky. "Well, that's just GREAT!" He furiously grabbed the comlink off his belt again. "Hey Chewie, um, change of plan. We'll meet you at the _Falcon_ on foot." 

Chewbacca barked and growled through the comlink. Han's mood seemed to instantly brighten. "What? Oh, good---somebody decided to cut us a break! We'll meet you there—out." He switched off the comlink and sat up, turning to Lando. "Chewie says he found a skiff tucked away in the vehicle port. He says he thinks he can get it to work. Come on, let's get out of here." 

Lando stood up and reached down toward Han, helping him to his feet. Han clamped down on Lando's hand as he stood. "Hey, Lando…thanks for saving me, buddy." He rubbed the small of his back. "Although you didn't have to be so rough about it."

Lando smiled slightly. "Just doing what I can to make right, Han."

They hugged the wall of the dock as they headed back toward the door, being very careful to avoid the _Slave I's near perimeter. As they walked through the door, Han turned back and, in spite of himself, glanced at the ship with odd admiration. "I just _have_ to get me one of those…"_

* * *

The skiff violently jerked to one side as the repulsorlift engine sputtered momentarily, sending Han, Lando, and all their equipment crashing to the deck. Lando scrambled to grab the bioscanner from flying out of his hand and off the vehicle into the desert's sands. "Chewie, are you sure this piece of crap is gonna make it?" he barked. And once again, Lando was answered by an obscene hand gesture, this time from Chewbacca in the tiller's driving position. Lando snorted through his nose. "Seems that gesture's getting around…"

Han hoisted himself back to his feet, brushing off the electrobinoculars slung around his neck and reading its digital screen. "Well, according to this, we're on the right track. Showing me a readout of a large metal object about a hundred fifty kilometers from here. Could be a Jawa sandcrawler, but not likely. It's not big enough, and even Jawas don't stray this far into the boonies. It's got to be Jabba's sail barge---or what's left of it." He wiped the sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve. "And Fett would most likely take a straight trajectory route, so we should be on course."

Lando piped in as he read his own display on the bioscanner. "I'd say so, Han---I'm getting a reading. It's faint, but it's there."

Han moved behind Lando, looking at the reading over his shoulder. "Yeah? Sure it's not a Bantha or a krayt dragon or anything?"

"No, not nearly big enough. And it's too faint to be a Tusken Raider. I just can't get its exact coordinates yet…"

Han raised the electrobinoculars to his eyes, scanning the vast horizon back and forth…until he saw a small dark spot set into a huge sand dune in the distance…

"There! There he is! Chewie, take it twelve degrees starboard!"

The skiff veered, speeding along the sands until the shape became visible to the naked eye. As they approached closer, the skiff's crew could see the figure of a humanoid seated half-buried in the sand, its badly cracked helmet slumped over its knees. With one hand on his blaster and the other cupped around his mouth, Han shouted, "Fett! Boba Fett! Can you hear me?" The figure remained still and silent. "It's your buddy, Han Solo!" Still nothing.

Han and Lando moved to the side of the skiff. "Ok Chewie, take her in nice and gentle, and extend the plank."

The skiff gracefully descended and glided across the sands as it sidled up near the unconscious and unmoving Boba Fett. The loading plank slid out from the bulkhead, and Han laid down upon it, skimming its length on his stomach until he was leaning over the edge. "Ok Lando, get behind me and hold my feet. When I grab him, reach for his legs and get him on board."

Han stretched forward over the lip of the plank with Lando anchoring his feet, reaching for Fett's shoulder pad. "Chewie, take her down just a little more…easy…easy…" 

The skiff lowered a few more centimeters closer to the bounty hunter until Han was able slip his hand under Fett's shoulder guard and grab a generous fistful of the undersuit and the furred hanging trophy scalps attached to it…

"Got him! Lando, get his legs! Chewie, take her home!"

The skiff elevated with Han Solo holding on to the airborne Boba Fett with one hand. Lando lay across Han's legs on the plank, still anchoring him as he swung himself over the side edge and grabbed a hold of Fett's legs, pulling him onto the plank. They inched backwards, holding their prize and hoisting him back onto the deck. Chewbacca steered the skiff into a hard bank and headed back to Jabba's palace.

After pulling off his jetpack, they laid Fett on his back and knelt over him. Lando switched the bioscanner from bio-detection to medical scan and ran it up and down Fett's body. "Yup, he's a mess---severe infection…six broken ribs…broken shoulder…broken ankle and a fractured tibia. And lot's of nice little internal injuries." He moved the scanner over Fett's helmet, and shook his head. "I can't get a brain scan through his helmet." He looked up from beneath his brow at Han, "We're going to have to take it off."

Han met Lando's eyes, and the two paused as they realized the magnitude of that statement. Boba Fett's face would be revealed to his enemies, and those enemies would live to remember it. The Devil was about to be unmasked. 

Han glanced back toward Chewbacca, who met his gaze with the same understanding. Chewbacca grunted and nodded.

A strange smile crossed Han's lips as he looked back at Lando. "Hey, what the hell, right?" Han said with a bitter laugh. "He's out of business anyway."

Lando reached his fingers around Fett's neck, finding the tiny hydraulic clamp that fastened the helmet to the armor and pressing the switch. With a quiet hiss, the helmet gave way from the collar. Gently, he pulled the helmet off Fett's head---and it cracked down the center into two pieces in his hands. Tossing them aside, Lando pulled the protective undermask away from Fett's face.

They all stared down into Boba Fett's scarred and bloodied face. Damp blood was caked into his spiked hair. A trickle of dried blood ran from his prominent nose. A massive bruise covered half his face, and his left eye appeared to be swelled shut.

Lando ran the scanner over Fett's head. "Nice gash in his scalp…hairline skull fracture…massive concussion…and severe malnutrition. Gods and Hells, why is this guy still alive?" He leaned over and gently gripped one of Fett's eyelids, pulling it back and inspecting the pupil. "Ok, Han. I need a glucose and a saline IV, some bacta patches, and the syn-skin ejector from that kit. Got it?" Lando's request was met by silence. He looked up, irritated. "Come on, Han! Get moving!" His irritation waned, replaced by apprehension when he saw the look on Han Solo's face.

Solo never averted his eyes from Fett's face, and Lando saw his eyes become narrow and murderous. He heard Han's breathing become heavy and erratic. "Han…" Lando murmured cautiously.

Han broke his attention briefly from Fett to raise his dark glare to Lando. "Excellent point, Lando," Solo growled from his throat, "Why is this guy still alive…?" Before Lando or Chewbacca realized it, Han, with astounding speed, reached down and drew his blaster from its holster and aimed it right between Fett's closed eyes…

"HAN! What the _hell_ are you doing?!" Lando lunged at Han, grabbing his wrist and forcing it up. The blaster shot up into the sky as Lando landed his elbow against Solo's throat, forcing him onto his back on the deck. Han in turn swung his other fist at Lando, clocking him upside his head. Lando cried out and rolled to the side, still holding Han's wrist. Chewbacca slammed the skiff to a halt, sending them splaying across the deck. Lando scrambled to the rail, pulling himself up. As Han tried to get up, still brandishing the blaster, Chewbacca rushed up behind him and slid his massive arms up and under Han's, clamping his paws behind his head. Han struggled and flayed, but could not lower his arms or break from Chewbacca's vice-like strong-arm.

Lando held his head, leaning against the skiff rail, furiously attempting to catch his breath. "Han---just settle down now buddy, get a hold of yourself!"

"HE ALMOST KILLED ME, LANDO!" Han screamed, still thrashing against his first-mate and friend. The sheer viciousness and wrath in Han's behavior chilled Lando and Chewbacca alike down to the cores of their souls. He panted like an enraged beast as he spit out his words. "Carting me around in that carbonite coffin for months! Almost killing you, killing Luke, and Leia…" Han choked at the mention of her name, and Lando actually saw tears begin to well in his eyes and heard his voice strangled by a sob, "Leia, practically naked, chained to that repulsive, perverted slug like a piece of meat, like an animal---and I couldn't save her! I was blind and helpless and I couldn't do damn thing…" His body wracked as he continued. "And all because of that son of a bitch! And now we're saving him, taking him to a sweet, beautiful girl, giving him a LIFE---he doesn't deserve her, Lando! He doesn't deserve ANYTHING!" 

Lando stood in stunned silence. Until this moment, he hadn't fully realized the enormity of Han Solo's rage and torment from his ordeal with Fett and Jabba the Hutt. It had been so well hidden behind his armor of bravado and wisecracks, but now Lando saw that, deep within him, it was tearing him apart. And now that Solo had actually seen that Boba Fett was not a machine behind a mask, but an actual flesh and blood man like himself, was more than Han could obviously tolerate…

However, Lando held his ground. "Han, listen to me very carefully. Do you know what Leia went through all those months you were missing? Do you?" Han, panting and drained and still being held back by Chewbacca, glared at Lando and shook his head. Lando continued. "Sure, she remained the model of efficiency, the fearless Rebel leader, the steadfast and dutiful soldier---until she thought no one was around. Then Luke told me what was really happening." He stepped closer to Han. "He told me he would stand outside her quarters and listen to her cry for hours. He told me she wasn't sleeping, and soon after that, she'd stopped eating. At one point, she had gotten so thin and weak she was rushed to the medical frigate for treatment. She had no idea if you were alive or dead, and it was killing her. And do you know who was the one who snapped her out of it, who told us you were alive, who helped us find you? The Lady I'Lai."

Lando stood face to face with Han, firmly holding his gaze. "And let me tell you this, friend," Lando added harshly, "Even after going through all that, Leia wouldn't want you to do this. She would never forgive you if you murdered the man I'Lai loves in cold blood. It would make you no better than him."

Han lowered his gaze and his head. Lando nodded to Chewbacca, who finally let go of Han's arms. Han threw the blaster to the deck. He rolled his shoulders in their sockets, trying to loosen their cramped muscles, as he walked over and hunched over the rail, bowing his head. Lando walked beside him and put his hand on his shoulder. "Han, I've known you a long time, and I know vengeance isn't your style. You'll have your day with Fett, but not today. Not like this."

Han glanced at his friend, his expression a mix of anguish and shame. He reached up and wiped his face. "I'm sorry, Lando." He craned his neck around towards Chewbacca. "Chewie, I'm sorry, buddy." Chewbacca lumbered over and curved his huge arm around Han's shoulders, apologizing as well for Wookiee-handling him so hard.

Lando patted Han on the arm. "Come on—help me get Fett patched up enough so he'll make the trip back to Orri Prime alive."

* * *

Chewbacca drove the skiff and its crew into the vehicle hangar just at the precise moment its repulsorlift engine decided to completely give out. Jumping over the rail with the speed and grace of a being half his size, Chewbacca landed on the ground and gave the skiff a swift kick, denting the plating, and growling in Wookiee, "Piece of shit…"

"Heads up, Chewie," Han called out as he and Lando carefully lowered Fett's limp and bandaged body over the rail. Chewbacca reached up and caught him, laying him over his shoulder. Lando and Han hopped off the skiff, and the band started to make their way toward the beta port.

As they came upon the port's entrance, Han tapped Chewbacca on the arm. "Ok Chewie, hand him over." Chewbacca gently lowered Fett down, and Han grabbed two fistfuls of the back of his suit at the shoulder, holding Fett up as a shield. "Chewie, cover me and be ready to pick off those pods if they come out angry. Lando, you're going to have to get in there fast."

Lando nodded as they hugged the entry. "No problem, Han."

Han hesitated, turning to Lando. "You _can_ fly that thing, can't you?"

Lando took a deep breath. "Well, we're gonna find out, aren't we?"

Han rolled his eyes and hoisted Boba Fett upwards, ducking his head down behind him. He started to slowly walk toward the _Slave I_, with Lando slightly behind him and Chewbacca behind Lando, his crossbow aimed and ready for any defense assault.

Again, as Han hit the spot he had earlier, the laser graph of the genome scanner shot forth, enveloping the unconscious Fett, crossing its two beams over him in a green mesh. Unlike the last time, the beams made more than one pass, crossing over Fett four times. 

"Come on, come on, hurry up," Han grimaced, his arms shaking from fatigue as he held up Fett's limp form, "It's him already!"

As quickly as it appeared, the scanning beam vanished, and the hatch of the S_lave I_ began opening in a fanfare of scraping gears, hydraulic hums and hissing steam.

There was no time for celebration. "Lando, go!"

Lando sprinted toward the hatch and leapt onto the ramp, stopping briefly and giving Han and Chewbacca a thumbs-up. "I'm in!" he called out and disappeared into the maw of the _Slave I as the ramp ascended and swallowed him into the ship._

With a gust of breath, Han exclaimed, "Chewie, I'm done with this," and thrust the unconscious bounty hunter in the Wookiee's direction and turned toward the port exit. Chewbacca was barely able to catch Fett before he hit the floor and, as he again hoisted him on his shoulder, thought to himself how he was going to get his captain really drunk later that evening on Orri Prime---and then kick his ass…

* * *

The _Millennium Falcon_ roared out of Jabba's space dock into the outer atmosphere of Tatooine with the _Slave I_ trailing directly behind. 

Han was seated in the pilot's chair, punching in data through the ship's computer. He leaned into the comlink. "Lando, do you copy?"

Lando's voice crackled over the speaker. "Yeah Han, I can hear you."

"I'm uploading the hyperjump coordinates to you now—they showing up?" 

"Gimme a second…where the hell is the viewer—OW! Damn it, could it be a little _more cramped in here…yeah, here they are! Downloading them into the nav system as we speak. How's our patient doing?"_

"Well," Han breathed as he turned slightly toward the hold, "We've got him on the med berth right now hooked up to the monitors. Chewie's going to be keeping an eye on him, making sure he's still breathing by the time we get back." He turned back to the helm. "How's it going in there?"

Lando's exasperation came through loud and clear. "I swear, I'm going to need a week's worth of traction after flying this thing! Or maybe I can just sweet-talk that blonde mechanic into walking on my back for a couple hours…"

"Hey Lando," Han said in a low voice, "what does it look like in there? I may hate the bastard's guts, but I'm dying to see his toys!"

"Han, I can't decide if this guy's a technological genius or a paranoid whacko! He's got redundant back-ups built into every single system in this ship, some with their own redundancies. There's a stealth system in here that would rival an Imp destroyer---which is probably why you never saw him behind you on the way to Cloud City! And an ION cannon—who the hell would put an ion cannon in a ship this small? Plus, there's a bunch of technologies here I've never seen before---like this thing. I wonder what this does…?"

"Lando, don't touch anything you don't have to! You don't know what it---"

Suddenly, every speaker in the _Falcon _shook with the violent vibrations of the ear-splitting noise coming from the comlink. The high-pitched squeal of what sounded like some alien instrument came screaming over the speakers, accompanied by the low thumping of a primitive drumbeat and the equally deafening screech of a male as he attempted to sing…

_I live my life like there's no tomorrow…_

"Lando, what the hell is that!?"

_All I've got I've had to steal…_

"I don't know, Han—I just pushed a button—"

_Least I don't need to beg or borrow…_

"Well, shut it off!"

_Yes I'm living at a pace that kills…_

"I'm TRYING!"

Han could hear Chewbacca through the cockpit door, roaring over the din of the excruciatingly loud music, knowing it was probably damaging his sensitive hearing…

_Running with the devil…_

"Lando," Han bellowed into the comlink, "SHUT THAT THING—" Suddenly, the Falcon was flooded with peace and quiet-- "off."

"Sorry about that, Han. Uh-oh… I think I broke it."

"What the hell was that thing?"

"I don't know---it was just this small case with buttons and a silver disc inside that says, 'Music from Earth'. Where the hell is Earth?"

"I dunno, but wherever it is, if that's what they listen to, remind me not to go there." Han rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Lando, stop screwing around and just fly the ship! Get set to make the jump to hyperspace…and we'll talk to you in a couple hours. Three, two, one."

The surrounding stars streaked into white ribbons against black space as Han pulled the throttle and sent the _Falcon_ into its self-made portal through space and time itself.

Han leaned back in his chair for a moment, rubbing his temples. It had already been an exhausting, aggravating day, and all he wanted was a soft, warm bed with a soft, warm Leia in it and a plate of hot food, none of which was available to him on the _Falcon_. But there were some ration bars back in the hold and, poor substitute that it was, he decided to go help himself to one.

He rose from the pilot's chair and, running his hand through his hair, Han mumbled, "Krishk, what else could happen today?" As he turned, the answer to his question was, unfortunately, standing in the cockpit door, accompanied by a low voice of iced gravel…

"Surprise. Get your hands up, Solo."

Han found himself staring down the muzzle of Chewbacca's laser crossbow as it was cradled in the sling-dressed arm of the wounded, but now conscious, Boba Fett.

Even without the voice synthesizer of his now-discarded helmet, Fett's cold, grating voice made the hairs on Han's neck stand on end. He stood frozen for a brief moment, and then slowly raised his hands, glaring into the black, snakish slits of Fett's eyes. "I knew we should have strapped you down, Fett," Han hissed under his breath. "Where's my Wookiee?"

Fett tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes even more. "Aw, isn't that sweet? Don't worry, Solo, I didn't kill your pet. He's just taking a little nap." While still aiming Chewbacca's blaster at Han's head, Fett reached down with his other hand and deftly unfastened his gun belt, slipping it off his waist and tossing it to the floor behind him.

Solo reacted instantly, lunging for the crossbow, only to have Fett react even faster. With amazing speed and grace, Fett smashed his palm in a cut across Han's jaw, following the hit with a second blow from his elbow. Han reeled back and fell against the back of the pilot's chair, sinking to the floor, his ears ringing and his vision doubling.

Fett limped into the cockpit to stand over the dazed Solo. "Not too bright _and a lousy fighter. No wonder you were such easy prey, Solo." He reached down and brutally grabbed Han by the hair, pulling him up. "Get up."_

Han grabbed onto Fett's gloved fist as he hoisted him to his feet, still lightheaded and confused by Fett's precise attack. "What…what do you think you're doing, Fett?" he asked as he furiously attempted to retain his equilibrium.

"Well, Solo, I think I'm commandeering your ship," Fett replied in a nonchalant tone as he threw Solo back into his pilot's chair. "Then, once I get my ship back, I think I'm going to blast you all to hell." He leaned into Han's ear and hissed, "And if that idiot Calrissian does anything to fuck up my ship, I'll kill him _twice."_

Han would have laughed at the threat if he didn't actually think Boba Fett could somehow do it. Instead, he snickered, "Nice language, Fett. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Han was answered by the cold blaster barrel pressed against the back of his head and Fett frigidly whispering, "If I had been born from a mother, I probably would, Solo. With tongue. Now shut up." 

Han, his jaw throbbing, watched Fett intensely as the bounty hunter came around and, slowly and carefully, lowered himself into the co-pilot's seat. Despite his astounding display of strength, speed, and sheer will, Solo could tell that Fett was hurting, and hurting bad. He saw Fett's hand slip slightly off the chair's arm, and heard him suck air hard through his teeth. However, he never lowered his eyes from Han's and kept the crossbow on its fixed position his neck.

Han's heart thumped violently in his chest, but he stared straight ahead out the cockpit windows and tried to seem calm. Solo couldn't help but think that Fett's actual face was just as cold and impassive as his infamous mask had been, if maybe not even more so. "Aren't you the least bit interested why we've come to find you, Fett?"

"To be honest, Solo, no, I'm not. All I'm interested in is getting my ship back and watching you die."

"Then why don't you just kill us now?"

"Because I, unfortunately, need you right now," Fett muttered as he leaned back in the chair. "Once we enter real space, I need you to talk to that imbecile Calrissian and tell him everything is perfectly fine. Then I need you to call in the security clearances for our destination port. Then I hold you and the Wookiee hostage in exchange for my ship…and then I kill you. Is that simple enough for you to understand, Solo?"

Han glared sideways at the bounty hunter, fighting to keep his rage and hatred of him in check as he frantically tried to think of a way out of this. Obviously, the physical approach hadn't worked: As much as he didn't want to admit it, Han knew that, in spite of his injuries, Fett regenerated quickly and was a far more skilled and faster fighter than he was. Han was good with a blaster, but hand-to-hand combat was not his forte—he usually had a gift for talking his way out of such situations…_ Talking _his way out…__

Han turned to the hunter, raising his eyebrows a tad. "Do you even know where we're going, Fett?"

Fett shot his glare back at Solo, himself raising an eyebrow. "Does it matter?"

Han stifled a chuckle in his throat as he recalled something Leia had said while they were imprisoned in Cloud City all those months ago—"You certainly have a way with people…"

_Well Leia, _he thought to himself_, let's find out how true that is…_

"We're going to the Dia-Orri system," Han stated emphatically. "Heard of it?" He saw a flicker of recognition in Fett's face and watched his eye twitch before he snapped himself back into his frigid composure. _Gotcha, you son of a bitch…_

"Imperial durasteel mining system, if I recall," Fett said flatly, staring out into the frenzy of hyperspace.

"Well, it used to be—not anymore. The Alliance took it over months ago." Han watched for any reaction from Fett, who was careful to give him none so far. He decided to push further. "Yeah, that was a pretty easy conquest, just the first of many we found there, if you know what I mean." Fett shot him a deadly glare, but he pressed on, donning an arrogant smirk. "Yup, sent the Grand Moff packing for the old dirt nap, took over his entire operation, and then, well…that concubine of his…" Han blew a whistle through his lips. "Now _she is a fine piece of Imperial issue. Courtesan, you know. From what I've heard, she kept the Rebel troops pretty well entertained for weeks—"_

In a blinding instant, Fett had switched the blaster from his slinged arm to his free hand and planted the muzzle against the side of Han's nose. His tone was low, cold, and lethal. "I suggest you shut up now, Solo."

Han sat perfectly frozen, staring down at the barrel of the blaster and feeling inappropriately giddy. "Oh, ya know her? Yeah well, that wouldn't surprise me. I've heard that most of the galaxy has made the jump to _her hyperspace at one time or another…"_

Before he even knew it, Han was pulled out of his chair by the shirt and slammed against the bulkhead of the cockpit. Fett had freed his injured arm from the sling, holding Solo against the wall by his throat. His eyes were no longer cold, but ablaze with fury. "Now listen to me very carefully, Solo. You will not say another word about the woman. Understand? You are not even fit to speak her _name!"_

In spite of the fact that he couldn't breathe all that well, a laugh escape Han's throat as he glared into the bounty hunter's eyes. "What's the matter, Fett? You have a soft spot for the whore? Did she get under your skin?" Han's tone became serious as he asked, "Do you _love_ her, Fett?"

He could feel Fett's body quaking with rage as he saw Fett raise the crossbow to his chin. "You know what, Solo? I'll just use the Wookiee as my bargaining chip. I think I will kill you now."

"Can I just say one thing before you do?" Han choked out.

Fett hesitated, and then replied, "No," as he was about to squeeze the trigger…

"I'Lai gave birth to your son two days ago!"

Slowly, Han felt Fett's grip on his throat lessen and the cold barrel of the blaster pull away from his chin. Han gulped in deep breaths of precious air, as Fett stood back from him in staggered silence. Fett's expression was blank, but his eyes widened slightly as he stared into Han's, trying to read them. "You're lying," he hissed.

"Am I, Fett?" Han spit into his face. "Why the hell do you think we came and got you? What, you think I risked my ass to dig you out of a sand dune because I think you're a swell guy? Frankly, I'd rest my head easy every single night for the rest of my life knowing you were still rotting in the Saarlac!"

Fett tightened his grip again on Solo's throat. "Then why did you do this? Why did you rescue me?"

"Because," Han gargled through Fett's chokehold, "I'Lai asked me to."

Fett held Solo there against the bulkhead until Han's eyes glazed over, then dropped him. Han fell to the floor, landing on his hands and knees, his back heaving as he fought for every breath. 

Fett limped back to the co-pilot's chair, setting himself in it, still aiming the crossbow at Solo. "How do you know I'Lai?" he demanded softly.

Han looked up from the floor at Fett. "She's been supplying the Rebellion with metal ore and Imp information for months. She helped Skywalker and the others find me on Tatooine. And she helped us find you now." He rubbed his aching throat. "Lucky me."

Han saw that Fett's demeanor had changed somewhat from cold and menacing to still cold yet inquisitive. He also saw that the physical stress Fett had demanded of himself in the last few minutes was taking its toll. "You've…seen her, Solo?" Fett asked quietly, blinking his eyes hard as he tried to focus.

Han slowly shifted himself into a sitting position on the floor. "Yeah, I've seen her, Fett." He paused for a moment. "I've also seen your son—and now that I've actually seen your face, I can honestly say that he looks exactly like you."

Slowly, Boba Fett lowered the crossbow; Solo wasn't sure if it was intentional or simply because he didn't have the strength to hold it up any longer. Fett swayed slightly in his chair, staring blankly toward the floor. It was apparent that his wits were slipping and his mind was reeling from everything he had just learned. "I…have a son," he murmured simply. "I'Lai…had my son." He closed his eyes, repeating her name, "I'Lai…" 

Han furrowed his brow as he noted the tone in his voice. Fett spoke I'Lai's name with such reverence, with unreserved veneration and tenderness_. By the gods, Han thought to himself__, could it be that Fett actually loves__ her…?_

However, Han was not touched to such a degree as to let Fett dwell too long on this valued moment. "Well, since we're catching up on current events here, did I happen to mention that Vader and the Emperor are dead, and that we blew up the new Death Star, and that the Rebels won the war?"

Fett, confused and wavering, shifted his vacant gaze in Solo's direction. He tilted his head slightly and quietly asked, "What…?" before his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped to the floor.

Han jumped to his feet, rubbing his aching jaw and fighting the urge to kick Boba Fett swiftly in the head. "The things I do for people…when did I become such a nice guy?" he groused as he stomped into the hold. "Chewie! Chewie, you all right?"

He heard Chewbacca gurgle from inside the med station. He ran over and poked his head in. Chewbacca was still dazed, sitting on the floor, holding the back of his head as blood matted into his brown fur. Han saw the dented and bloody metal medical supply case Fett had obviously used to hit him with lying next to the Wookiee.

"Here buddy, don't move. Let me take a look at it." Han leaned over and inspected the gash in Chewbacca's head. "Yeah, it's a nice one, but you'll live." He grabbed a small canister from the supply shelf and sprayed its contents into Chewbacca's fur. "There, a little syn-skin should close it up." Chewbacca barked in pain and swatted at him. "Hey, I know it hurts—that means it's working! Don't be such a baby—and don't hit me! I'm tired of getting hit today." He put the canister back on the shelf. "Ok Chewie, help me get that bounty-hunting bastard back in here. And this time, STRAP HIM DOWN!"

* * *


	6. His Heart of Flint That You Shall Love

Episode 1

Chapter 6

His Heart Of Flint That You Shall Love

Luke Skywalker leaned back against the mammoth tree and devoured a long, voracious breath of Orri Prime's sweet spring air. It was warmer this day than previous days, and the blue sun glinted off the mountain peaks and their surrounding forests. He had removed his boots and now dug his toes into the defrosted soil, enjoying its cool sensation. In the far off distance, he could see two huge birds of prey the natives called taminaes circling the peaks of Heavens Brace. He looked over the cliff on which he sat. I'Lai's palace sprawled majestically below him, a beautiful white granite haven entirely surrounded by a huge garden that was just starting to awaken to the kiss of the hemisphere's spring. The palace's space dock was situated about half a kilometer from the palace, and he could see the tiny figures of mechanics and droids rustling about, awaiting the return of the Millennium Falcon and its spoil, the Slave I.  
  


_It's so beautiful here, so peaceful, so…unscathed, _Luke mused in his mind_. I wish we could just stay here.  
  
_

"Well, we can't. We've got a lot of work ahead of us on  
Coruscant."  
  


Luke leaned over and peeked around the tree to see Leia standing a few paces behind him, smiling. "Hello, Brother Luke," she said. "Mind if I join you?"

Luke broadly returned her smile, extending his hand. "Of course,   
Sister Skywalker."  
Leia giggled as she bounded over and sat on the ground next to him. "I like it when you call me that."  
  


Luke shot her a sidelong smirk. "When do I get to call you Mistress Solo?"  
  
Leia laughed. "I don't know—you'll have to ask Master Solo about that."  
  
The smile faded slightly from Luke's face. "At this rate I'll be lucky if I get an invitation to the wedding."  
  
Leia sighed and slumped her shoulders. "Oh Luke! You know what a pig-headed nerfherder Han can be!" Luke stifled a guffaw through his nose—he loved when Leia called him that. Leia smiled as she continued. "I understand why you didn't say anything about Boba Fett and I'Lai. And I think Han will too, eventually. He doesn't stay mad for very long."  
  


"I hope you're right, Leia."  
  
Leia looked out over the indigo peaks of Orri Prime's mountains. "You really love this place, don't you, Luke?"  
  
"Well," Luke snickered, "when you've spent the first twenty years of your life staring at nothing but sand, mountains and trees and fresh air are a very welcome change."  
  
They sat quietly together for a while, gazing upon the magnificent landscape. Luke began to feel an apprehension in Leia, as though she wanted to say something. "Leia, is there something troubling you?" he asked.  
  


Leia turned and met Luke's gaze, a sad look in her eyes. "Actually, yes, there is." She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I feel I owe you an apology."  
  
Luke knit his brows. "Why?"  
  
"Because…because I haven't exactly been sharing in your grief for…for…"  
  
"For our father, Leia?" Luke volunteered.  
  
Squeezing her eyes shut, Leia bowed her head and placed her palms against her eyes. Luke could tell she was fighting back tears. "Luke…I'm so sorry, but…it's going to take me a long time to come to terms with it. Please forgive me."  
  
Reaching around her shoulders, Luke drew Leia closer to him, letting her lean her head into the crook of his arm. "Leia, there is nothing to forgive. These are your feelings, and one's feelings are never wrong. I am not foolish enough to say you must forgive Vader…Father immediately, if ever. It will take time.  
  
"But I will tell you this," he added, his tone growing lower, more serious, "When your strength in the Force progresses, you will understand what an… overwhelming temptation the Dark Side can be. I can vouch for that first-hand." Luke could see the concern growing in Leia's eyes and averted his own for a moment before he continued. "During our fight on the Death Star, when Vader  
threatened to turn you…I came very close to succumbing myself. Very  
close."  
  
Leia looked up into his face, her eyes becoming enormous. "Luke…I had   
no idea." She reached down and took his hand. "That must have been   
terrifying for you."   
  
"That was the scariest thing about it, Leia. It wasn't terrifying at all, it was…" Luke took a breath, "almost… liberating. It was alluring, soothing. It dangled promises of power and dominion in front of my mind. It offered me everything from leading entire armies into battle to…an embrace from Padme, our mother. The Dark Side promised me you would never be turned or harmed, that you would always be safe and content. At that point, I would have done anything   
to protect you." The trace of a bitter smile briefly crossed Luke's lips. "And all I had to do for all of it was…kill my own father." He paused, closing his eyes. "The Dark Side made Father seem as if he were nothing more than an insect under my shoe, just something to kick out of my path to glory and happiness. It made it seem that easy."  
  
He turned to Leia, who still stared at him with a mix of pity and horror. "I started my Jedi training when I was twenty years old. Father started his at the age of nine. So you can imagine how much more powerful he was in the Force by the time he was my age. Knowing what the Dark Side promised me, imagine what it offered him." He tilted his head as he met Leia's gaze. "Do you understand a little more now, Leia? Father was not born evil. He was just so gifted in the Force that the temptation was just too great to refuse."  
  
Leia lowered her gaze to the soft earth under her feet. "I…think I understand, Luke. You mean the stronger one is in the Force, the greater the Dark Side's temptation?"  
  
Luke nodded. "Yes, that's right." He paused briefly, weighing his words heavily before adding, "And that is why I am worried about I'Lai."  
  
Leia gasped. "Luke, you don't honestly think that I'Lai…?"  
  
"She's…just so powerful, Leia. She is completely untrained, and yet she harnesses a raw strength in the Force that I could almost compare to Obi Wan Kenobi, even Master Yoda. Completely resisting Vader's subconscious invasion? Spontaneous telekinesis? And waking astral projection? I can't even do that yet."  
  
"But Luke…you can teach her, can't you? You can train her like you're training me?"  
  
Luke sighed and shook his head as he started to pull on his boots. "I'll do what I can, but I'm not a Jedi Master by any means. Not yet. All I can do is teach her how to control her strength until I become better trained myself...and hope her powers remain hidden from any remaining followers of the Sith."  
  
Leia tried to shake off the chill that was running up her spine. She was about to remind Luke that the ways of the Sith were now passed with the deaths of Vader and the Emperor, only to remind herself that the Jedi of her mother's generation had mistakenly thought the same thing about the Sith…  
  
Instead, she stuck to the subject of I'Lai. "Her parents must have been very strong in the Force," Leia commented as she raised her face to catch a particularly sweet mountain breeze. "Or at least one of them. But she has no idea of her parentage, correct?"  
  
Again, Luke shook his head. "No, not at all. She told me she was brought to the Imperial Courtesan Discipline when she was a toddler. She has no memory of her parents whatsoever."  
  
Leia furrowed her brow. "It seems so strange for a child that exceptional to wind up in the Emperor's brothel. It just doesn't make sense." She turned to her brother. "But Luke…I don't think you have to worry too much about her. I'Lai has a heart as big as this galaxy. I have never known anyone as courageous or as kind as she is…well, except for you." With that, she leaned up to kiss Luke on the cheek.  
Luke smiled and pulled his sister closer to him. "Just promise me you'll help me keep an eye on her."  
  
"I will," Leia replied, smiling broadly.

  
A dull roar in the distance pulled Luke's and Leia's attention toward the massive peaks of Heaven Brace. They both looked up to see the Millennium Falcon soar through the peaks' entrance, followed by the smaller and disturbingly familiar form of Boba Fett's Slave I.  
  
"They're here—come on, let's go," Leia said as she rose and offered Luke her hand in assistance. As she helped pull him to his feet, she added, "I hope the med team brought an extra ice pack for Han's jaw."  
  
Luke squinted at her. "Why, what's wrong with Han's jaw?"  
  
Leia smirked a sly smile and winked at Luke. "_When _I become stronger   
in the Force, huh?" She reached up and rowdily tousled Luke's hair,   
then took off sprinting down the dirt path. "Come on—I'll race you!"  
  
Luke laughed and started running after her. Leia bent swiftly to grab   
a bunch of leaves from the ground, tossing them at Luke. As they ran   
down the tree-lined path, they continued to laugh and play like the   
children they never had a chance to be together.  
* * *  
  
The first thing that infiltrated Boba Fett's waking awareness was the banging pain in his skull. Every heartbeat gonged against his eardrums from the inside out. His blood felt like acid in his veins.  
  
He attempted to open his eyes. They felt thick and opaque. He absently tried to lift his hand to wipe them, only to growl in agony. Then he remembered that was the injured shoulder. He switched hands, rubbing the dried crust away and slowly opening his eyes.  
  
Although the lush curtains were pulled closed over the window, the room was still too bright for Fett's liking: Without the visor of his helm, broad daylight was too intense for his altered eyes. He held his hand as a shield over his brow as he surveyed his surroundings. The chamber was white, sterile. He painfully turned his head to the side, responding to the blips of the medical monitors: It was only then when he fully realized he was lying prone in an infirmary bed,   
wearing a patient's robe of soft beige fabric. He glanced upwards to see two intravenous drip containers dangling from atop the monitors and followed the tubes to where they were stuck into his arm.

  
Fett blinked hard several times and took deep breaths through his   
nose as he ferociously tried to shake his grogginess and remember how   
he came to this place. Soon, images that began fuzzy morphed into   
clearer pictures and sensations. He recalled a fleeting moment of   
being strapped down and carried on a stretcher in a space dock and   
hearing voices—familiar voices-- over him. He then remembered the   
feeling of his armor and suit being cut away from his body as a   
blaring ceiling-mounted surgical light blinded him…  
  
Then his clearest memory emerged…he had been floating, weightless  
yet tethered by tubes and wires and a breathing mask in the thick viscous   
contents of a bacta tank. He remembered being naked, save for a pair   
of short trunks. He remembered seeing misshapen, watery faces   
through the plexiglass wall of the tank as they stared at his   
progress. The faces were those of Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Lando   
Calrissian, Han Solo, and an old, white-haired man wearing a medical   
coat…and he remembered pounding the glass with his fist in rage  
and humiliation as he floated there, exposed and vulnerable, wishing his   
murderous glare would be enough to snuff out their lives and blind   
their gawking eyes.  
  
It was then another face emerged behind the glass, a face of pure   
ivory surrounded by raven black curls. He found himself staring into   
wide, sparkling eyes of teal. The eyes were imploring, concerned, yet   
soothing, hypnotic. He saw her rose-hued lips curve slightly up in a   
warm smile, and she placed the palm of her slender hand against the   
glass. Fett had calmed a little, and he found himself raising his own   
hand to press against the glass-shielded palm of hers as he briefly   
lost himself in the tranquil comfort of her eyes…  
But his anger and his arrogance had begun to surge in his blood once   
again. Seeing her standing in the same room as his enemies, the very   
ones who had tried to send him to a thousand year demise, only   
reminded him that he was there as a prisoner, the Rebels'  
prisoner--her prisoner. He found that he could no longer bear to look upon her   
any longer. He remembered clenching his pressed hand into a fist and   
furiously turning away from the angelic visage.  
  
After a few moments, in spite of himself, he had turned his head back   
over his shoulder. The beautiful face with the teal eyes had   
disappeared, and all he saw at that moment were her raven curls   
cascading down her back as she hurriedly fled through the  
door…from then on, Fett could recall nothing more.

Lying in his bed, Fett sighed deeply and clenched his eyes closed   
again.

He kept them closed when he heard the chamber door swoosh open. He   
listened to footsteps walk across the room toward the window and   
heard the curtains flung open, flooding the room with agonizing   
daylight—

"SHUT THEM! SHUT THEM NOW!" Fett yelled, raising his arm to  
shield his eyes.  
  
Poor old Dr. Him'bron nearly jumped out of his skin. He swung  
around, and momentarily clutched his chest. "What! Oh, yes, your  
eyes…I forgot. My apologies." He pulled the curtains closed again, and  
Fett lowered his arm to glare at the doctor. Him'bron ran his hand  
through his white hair and cleared his throat. "Well, we're awake.  
And how are we feeling?"  
  
"Come closer and we'll show you," Fett sneered.  
  
Him'bron clucked his tongue against his teeth and shook his   
head. "I've had my share of difficult patients in my day, but  
you, sir, have won first prize." As he pulled the medical datapad from  
his coat and lowered himself into a chair, he continued to mutter.  
"My poor nurse is sporting a black eye, and I've had to order new  
parts for the surgical droid you damaged—and that was while you were  
going under anesthesia! I won't even discuss what happened when you  
came out of it. We had to pump you with enough sedatives to keep a   
Cammendon asleep for a week!"  
  
Fett forced down the grin trying to spread across his face. He had   
obviously put up a good fight, and he was a little annoyed that he   
couldn't remember any of it. "How long have I been out?"  
  
Him'bron looked up from his datapad for a split second. "Three days."  
  
"THREE DAYS?" Fett roared. He bolted straight up in his bed,  
but bellowed in agony, clutching his side, and was forced to lie down   
again.  
  
Him'bron struck the datapad with his stylus, utterly annoyed.  
"Now stop that! We fused those ribs and that shoulder back together, but   
the muscles are still highly inflamed, and they need to heal.  
Don't thrash about so! Behave yourself."  
  
"Where is my armor?" Fett demanded through rasped breaths. "Where is my ship?"  
  
"That will all be covered in the briefing," Him'bron flatly replied.  
  


Fett narrowed his eyes. "What briefing?"   
  
Him'bron completely ignored Fett's question. "As I said, we fused all   
the broken bones you had, including the fracture in your skull. The bacta tank has cleared all signs of infection, surgical nanites have repaired your internal injuries, and the constant IV drip has replaced most of the nutrients back into your body. So it seems you are on the road to full recovery." Him'bron glanced up from his datapad to look Fett directly into his cold stare. "You have had   
rather extensive genetic altering done, particularly in the systems of fast-twitch muscle growth, connective tissue enhancement and flexibility, and overall cell regeneration. You know that kind of genetic tampering is illegal outside of Imperial military parameters."  
  
"So arrest me," Fett replied dully.   
  
Him'bron huffed. "I would hate to meet whatever disreputable  
quacks you paid off to do this. However, it seems this tampering is what   
saved your life. No ordinary man could have survived those injuries   
in those conditions for that long." Him'bron rose from his  
chair. "I see that you are still in pain. I can give you something for it—"  
  
"I don't want anything."  
  
"It will help you feel better—"  
  
"Are you deaf, old man? I DON'T WANT ANYTHING!"  
  
"Fine. You don't want anything." Him'bron stuffed the  
datapad back into his coat pocket as he strode toward the door. "By the way,  
the briefing I mentioned is about to start."  
  
Fett turned his head away from the doctor toward the window.  
"I'm not in the mood."  
  
"I'm afraid, sir, you don't have a choice." With  
that, Him'bron opened the door, nodding to the group waiting on the other side and strode through, mumbling, "Impossible man…"  
  
As soon as Him'bron had passed, Leia Organa walked in, followed  
by Han Solo, Lando Calrissian, and Luke Skywalker. All wore freshly   
crisp Alliance uniforms indicating their rank and position except for   
Luke, who still wore the dark tunic and cloak of the Jedi.  
  
Boba Fett lay back against his pillow as a disgusted sneer crossed   
his face. "Well, if it isn't my judge and jury." His eyes fell upon   
Leia, now sitting in the chair at the foot of his bed. Shooting a   
quick stabbing glance at Han standing beside her, his sneer broadened   
somewhat. "But a pleasing judge nonetheless. You are dressed a  
bit more modestly since last I saw you in Jabba's palace, Princess   
Organa."  
  
Leia immediately felt Han's outrage at the comment and instantly   
grabbed Han by the arm as he angrily stepped forward. Still holding   
Han's arm, she firmly met Fett's lascivious glare with the  
light trace of a smile. "As are you from last I saw you in the bacta  
tank, Master Fett," she crooned with feigned innocence. Han and Lando  
both blocked a laugh through their noses as Fett's leer disintegrated  
into a scowl. Luke shot them both a severe look, and they fell silent.  
  
Leia folded her arms over her chest. "As for being your judge and   
jury, Master Fett, we are neither. We are merely representatives of   
the Alliance here to discuss your future."  
  
"My future?" Fett scoffed indignantly. "That's rich.  
And exactly which aspect of my future will we be discussing, Princess? Lethal   
injection or blaster squad?"  
  
Leia sighed deeply and lowered her eyes. "It pains me that, after  
all the years of bloodshed and suffering this war has caused, that there   
are still those like yourself that confuse the Alliance with the   
Empire." She raised her eyes to meet his again. "We are not  
going to execute you, Master Fett."  
"Although there are several hundred on this planet alone that  
would give their right appendage for a ticket to that event," Solo quipped bitterly.  
  
"Han…" all admonished him in unison. Han merely held up his  
hands apologetically and rolled his eyes.  
  
Leia resumed her diplomatic tone. "We have discussed your case  
with the leaders of the Alliance Council. Since you hold the rank of free   
citizenship and have no formal position with the defeated Imperials,   
you do not fall under the official Alliance rules as a prisoner of   
war. However, the Council feels that, because of your crimes against   
Alliance personnel, you pose too great a risk to be freed immediately. Therefore, after careful consideration, we have decided that, under the circumstances of recent events, you will remain here under Dia-Orri system jurisdiction in the custody of its governor, the Lady I'Lai."  
  
Leia was taken aback for a split second as she endured the wave of   
mixed raw emotions emanating from Fett at the mention of  
I'Lai's name. But just as quickly as the muddle of resentment, shame, and   
longing had hit, Fett erected a black mental wall within his mind and   
shut her out. He resumed his cold business-like demeanor. "And  
how long will I be detained here?"  
  
Leia paused before answering. "Indefinitely."  
  
"Indefinitely," Fett repeated. "Or until the Alliance  
decides in committee that I have met their official guidelines as `a good  
boy'."  
"You will remain in custody until you no longer pose any threat  
to any member of the Alliance or the newly appointed galactic government   
of the New Republic," Leia corrected him sternly. She softened  
her tone a bit as she continued. "Do you have any questions?"  
  
"Where is my armor? And my ship?" Fett demanded.  
  
"Your armor is beyond any repair," replied Lando Calrissian,  
the Dia-Orri system's newly appointed Security Chief. "The  
Saarlac's acids completely broke down the molecular structure of the plating and the systems inside. As for your ship, it will remain here on Orri Prime   
in a storage facility in an undisclosed location."  
  
Fett remained silent as he stared toward the curtained windows.  
"Do you have any other questions?" Leia asked.  
  
"Just one." Fett turned his cold stare back to the Princess.  
"Where is I'Lai?"  
  
Leia glanced toward Luke, who had stood silent and stoic throughout   
the briefing. Fett noted that, although no words were verbally   
spoken, they seemed to be communicating with each other. He saw   
Skywalker nod slightly to Leia, and she turned her attention back to   
Fett. "She is tending to your son, Master Fett," Leia replied  
softly, adding, "She was…unsure if you wanted to see her." Both  
Luke and Leia heard Fett's heavy-hearted mental response…  
  
*That makes two of us.*  
  
Princess Leia smoothed the front of her uniform as she stood from her   
chair. "If you have no other questions, then we will take our  
leave. I must inform you that you will be under constant Alliance guard   
until the Council decides that security may be relaxed. I ask only   
for your cooperation in making this situation more comfortable on all   
sides, Master Fett."   
  
She turned toward the door to leave when Fett's words stopped her  
in her tracks. "You must be very amused by all this, your  
Highness," he murmured, his face and tone devoid of any particular emotion.  
"How satisfying it must be to see your lover's captor beaten and  
broken before you."  
  
The Princess shot Han Solo a look, pleading with him to hold his   
temper. She sighed deeply, taking a moment, before turning to   
Fett. "I take no pleasure whatsoever in others' misfortunes,  
Master Fett. I am not you." With that, she strode proudly through the  
door.

  
Before leaving himself, Han stepped toward the infirmary bed and   
glowered over Fett. "If you ask me, you got off easy, pal. Just   
remember that."  
  
The corner of Boba Fett's mouth curled up into a sinister smirk  
as his eyes bore into Solo's. "We're not done yet, Solo. Not by a long shot."  
  
Han leaned forward to meet Fett's frosty glare head-on. "Name  
the time and place, Fett. I'll be there."  
  
Fett's smirk grew even wider. "And who will you bring to fight for you? The Wookiee or the Jedi farm-boy?"  
Han cocked his fist back and lunged toward the bounty hunter before   
being caught and dragged out the door by Lando. "Come on, come on, let's go, hot shot…"  
  
Fett watched the pair scuffle out the door. He turned his attention to Luke, who had not yet moved from where he stood and looked at Fett with calm, almost compassionate eyes. Fett narrowed his own into deadly black slits. "You have something to say…Jedi?" He spit out the word as if it were filth in his mouth.  
  
Luke remained undaunted by Fett's hatred. "I understand you, Boba. I nderstand your anger and why you hate me so much."   
  
Fett's expression remained frigid and dim, but he felt his heart pound violently in his chest. "You understand nothing, Skywalker."  
  
"I understand that your grief led you to sell your soul, Boba. But   
it's not too late to buy it back." He stepped forward, never averting   
his eyes, sounding every bit the wizened Jedi. "Vader is dead,  
the Emperor is dead, Jabba the Hutt is dead. The dawn of change is   
rising, and you may want to decide whether to face it or continue to   
live in the dark night of your hatred and vengeance. Maybe someday   
you will understand the reasons the Alliance fought so long and so   
hard. Maybe you will decide to join us instead of fight us, because   
we surely could use a man of your genius and fortitude." Fett  
said nothing. Luke continued. "If you and General Solo can keep from   
killing each other for five minutes, you may want to ask him how the   
love of a good woman changed him for the better."  
  
"Enough, Skywalker."  
  
Luke sighed. He turned toward the door, the rush of air billowing his cloak, when he stopped before leaving. "Your father has been dead for decades, Fett. Let him rest and be with the family you have here and now."  
  
Coldly, impassively, Boba Fett raised his eyes to Luke Skywalker and   
quietly hissed, "Get out."   
  


Luke bowed respectfully and walked out, leaving Boba Fett to stare at   
the sterile white walls of his room and deal with the raging black   
torment in his heart.  
  
* * *  
  
Lando released his hold on Han's uniform jacket as they came out into the corridor. Han shook himself straight and smoothed the creases out on his sleeves when he felt the piercing stares of Lando and Leia. He looked at them and shrugged. "I can't help it—I just really hate that guy!"  
  
"Really? I never would have guessed," Leia replied flatly. Her attention suddenly turned to Wedge Antilles coming down the corridor of the palace, motioning to her. "I'll be right back—Wedge and I have to discuss the details regarding our trip to Coruscant." She began to walk toward Wedge down the hall.  
  
Han turned toward Lando. "So, you're sticking around here for a few weeks, huh, Security Chief?"   
  
Lando laughed a little. "Yeah. Orri Prime is going to be a hotbed  
for a while. The remaining Imps will try and rebuild their fleet, and they'll be hurting for durasteel. We're going to set up new security patrols, a heavier perimeter defense system, and put the new Orrian militia through boot camp. We're going to make sure this place is safe. You and Chewie going to Coruscant?"  
  
"Yeah, we'll being meeting Leia and Luke there. Then the real fun   
begins." Han laughed and shook his head. "I don't know what kind of   
politician I'm going to make."  
  
"My advice to you is…just nod a lot and leave the heavy stuff to Leia." Lando smiled and playfully punched Han in the arm. "See you later, General Pirate." With that, Lando Calrissian strode down the corridor toward the space dock where his shuttle awaited to take him to his new headquarters in the Southern Hemisphere.  
  
"Han," Leia called as she came back down the hall. "Wedge and I are   
leaving now."   
  
As she approached him, Han gripped her arm and pulled her into a   
recessed doorway. "Come here for a second, Leia."   
  
Leia was surprised by Han's action. "Han, what is it?"  
  
Han turned Leia to face him. He looked intensely into her eyes, and very gently, very lovingly touched her face. "You are…the bravest, most beautiful girl I have ever known. And I am deeply, madly in love with you." He leaned down and, taking her face into his hands, pressed his lips to hers in a sweetly passionate kiss. When he broke from her, he could see the twinkle of tears in her eyes. He   
smiled. "I just wanted to tell you that."  
  
Leia smiled through her tears. She wrapped her small arms around his waist and buried her face into his chest, breathing in his warm, familiar scent through the stiff fabric of his uniform.

Han held her tight for a few moments. "Get to your ship. I'll see you   
on Coruscant." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it before   
Leia, still beaming, walked down the corridor toward a waiting Wedge   
Antilles.  
  
Han stepped out from the doorway to see Luke standing in the middle of the hall. Things had been tense between the two friends of recent days. They met each other's gaze with a sense of caution and worry.  
  
Han placed his hands on his hips, nodding slightly and pursing his lips. "Taking your X-wing to Coruscant?" he asked Luke in a nonchalant tone.  
  
Luke quietly nodded.  
  
Han sniffed. "That thing's taken a beating, Luke. When are you going to get a real ship? Like a cruiser or something?"  
  
Luke allowed a soft smile to penetrate his austere demeanor. "Eventually, Han. When I can afford one."  
  
"Well, come with me to Corellia sometime. I got friends there. I can   
get you a good deal."  
  
Luke relaxed his severe Jedi posture and walked toward Han. He extended his cybernetic hand, and Han took it in his own in a hearty shake. Suddenly, Han huffed and exclaimed, "Oh—come here!" and wrapped his arms around Luke in a big bear hug. Luke returned the hug enthusiastically, patting Han on the back.  
  
Han broke the hug, and the two comrades-in-arms, beaming from ear to   
ear, began to walk down the corridor together. "Come on, kid--come to   
the Falcon and have a drink with Chewie and me before you go."   
"Han, you know I don't drink."  
  
"Then you can watch me and Chewie drink. That sounds like a good   
time, huh?" The friends' laughter rang through the ivory white corridors as they headed for the palace's space dock.  
  
* * *  
  
With a long, deep breath, Boba Fett stirred himself awake. A low, frustrated growl emerged from his throat. He had fallen asleep—again! Damn it, it seemed all he did was sleep! Him'bron had insisted that he was no longer administering sedatives, that Fett's chronic need for sleep was merely his body attempting to heal itself, but…_This can't be normal_, Fett thought to himself._ I've slept more in  
the last four days than in the last four months! How can I blast myself out of   
this place if all I do is sleep…  
_  
He bolted upright in his bed, rubbing the muck out of his eyes. In doing so, he noted that the pain in his torso and shoulder had subsided dramatically in the last day. He also noticed his head didn't pound nearly as much. He faced the curtained windows as he lowered his hand. The early morning light of dawn broke through the cracks in the curtain, softly illuminating the white sterile walls of his chamber with a pale azure hue.  
  
Fett stared blankly toward the window for a moment, then turned his head to scan his medical monitors…when his gaze stopped cold upon the large overstuffed chair positioned at the foot of his bed and for an eon of a moment, he could not find his breath.  
  
There, curled up in perfect sleep, was I'Lai. Her plush white robe was draped just below her bare shoulders and was open at her breast and Fett saw a tiny, blanket-wrapped bundle cradled in the crook of her arm.  
Slowly and silently, Fett pulled the blankets off his and swung his legs over the side of the bed. As he stood, the IV tubes stretched taut from his arm. Reaching down, he grabbed them and yanked them out, completely oblivious to the pain the action caused.

  
Ignoring the ache spreading up his leg from his healing ankle, he moved quietly toward the sleeping lady, lowering himself to kneel before her. His eyes drank in every detail of her face, every curl of her ringlets, every soft breath she took in her slumber. Even in sleep her lips, moistly parted, seemed to curve in a soft smile. Fett remembered the last time he saw her on the Executor was just like   
this, sleeping and dreamful, and that had been the image he had carried with him for these many months—but that image paled to what he saw before him now. Her skin was freshly scrubbed and radiant, her ebon hair tousled about her shoulders, her expression innocent and serene. He felt he was truly gazing upon an angel.  
  
He reached up to gently touch her lips. He ran his finger along the outline of them, being extremely careful not to disturb her. He touched the alabaster of her cheek, losing himself in the softness and warmth of her skin.  
  
He became suddenly startled by the tiny gurgle that emerged from the blanket-wrapped bundle in her arm. Looking down, he saw a tiny hand break free from the wrap to flex tiny fingers and reach for I'Lai's breast. The bundle cooed and wriggled closer to her, and Fett could hear the almost inaudible sound of suckling.  
  
Fett sat there, frozen and amazed, unable to look away.  
  
I'Lai's eyelids fluttered, and she stirred with a deep breath. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She lightly blinked a few times as she focused on the man in front of her. Soon, her drowsy gaze met his eyes, and her mouth spread into a soft smile.  
"Good morning, Boba," I'Lai whispered.   
  
Just like the very first moment he had laid eyes on her, Boba Fett could think of   
nothing to say.

  
I'Lai sleepily raised her head from her shoulder and extended her hand to Fett's face, touching his scarred chin in a gentle caress. "How are you feeling? Better, I hope?"  
"Yes…yes, I'm…better." He shifted uncomfortably as he struggled to say something to her…anything to her…"Was it…painful, I'Lai?" He mentally kicked himself for such an idiotic question.  
  
I'Lai's smile only broadened. "A little, Boba."  
  
Fett shifted his gaze back to the tiny bundle in her arms. "I…I want to see him." I'Lai gingerly adjusted the blanket away from the baby's face to allow Fett his first view of his infant son.  
  
Fett stared into the child's little face, again taking in every minute detail he saw. He smiled slightly at the tuft of dark hair on the infant's head, and noted the child's skin was a darker hue, like his own. He noted the child's strong brow and nose were like his as well. But what drew his attention most were the baby boy's eyes. They were not dark like his own, but a sparkling hue of sapphire-jade, like his mother's, and as they looked up into Fett's eyes, they bore into his very soul.  
  
_By the Slayer, he looks like…he looks like my father._  
  
"Does he…have you named him?"   
  
"I thought…we could do that together. Would you like to hold him, Boba?" I'Lai asked softly.  
Fett suddenly felt overwhelmed by a rush of unfamiliar and upsetting emotions. "No…no!" he snapped quietly as he rose to his feet and moved toward the window. He did not open the curtains, but rather leaned against the window's edge, furiously running his hand through his hair and over the healing gash in his scalp.  
  
I'Lai adjusted her robe around her and rose from the chair, clutching the babe to her breast. "Boba, what is it? What's wrong?"   
  
Fett remained silent for a moment. I'Lai could see his shoulders tremble before he turned and faced her. His face was a mixture of anger, confusion, and anguish. "I do not understand, I'Lai. I do not understand any of this. The rescue…the baby…why? Why have you done all this?"  
  
For a moment, I'Lai herself was speechless. She glanced toward the floor, fluttering her lashes, before raising her eyes to him again and answered, "You apologized to me."  
  
Fett furrowed his brow in even more confusion. "What…?"  
  
"That night on the Executor, when you became angry and frightened me.   
You apologized." She held his gaze in the innocent snare of her eyes. "You had never done that before, had you?"  
  
Fett felt as though he was going to explode. He wanted to shake her senseless and crush her in his embrace at the same time. How, how does she know these things about me? What is this maddening hold she has on me? Why do I yearn so fiercely for her…why does she make me so weak..?  
  
Once again, he latched onto his familiar tone of cruelty and arrogance when he spoke this time. "This situation does nothing to change the fact that I am a prisoner here, does it, Lady?"  
  
I'Lai blanched. "But, Boba…I assure you, you will have freedom of the palace and its out skirting areas along with access to all it can provide you—"  
  
"Under armed guard. Answer me this, Lady--am I or am I not your prisoner?" Fett moved toward her threateningly when she remained silent. "It is a simple yes or no answer. If I cannot have my freedom, at least pay me the respect of answering my question."  
  
Her lip trembling and tears beginning to well in her eyes, I'Lai calmly replied, "I would rather think of you as…my guest."  
  
"A guest who cannot leave, correct?" Fett's tone had turned ice cold.  
  
I'Lai struggled to find a suitable answer. "You will be able to leave…  
in time. When—"  
  
"When your Rebel friends decide I have been broken." Fett swung around toward the window again, folding his arms. "I want you to leave, I'Lai. Tend to your son."  
  
"But Boba—"  
  


"LEAVE," Fett snarled with quiet venom. 

I'Lai clenched her eyes closed and held her sob in her throat. Before she went through the door, Fett blurted, "Kai."  
  


I'Lai stopped and turned her tear-drenched face toward him. "What?"  
Fett didn't turn to face her. "I want to name him Kai. Kai Fett. Now you may leave."

  
I'Lai nodded. "All right. We'll name him Kai." Holding her son close to her breast, she turned and walked out the door.   
  
When she had reached the farthest stretch of the corridor, I'Lai could no longer hold her anguish. She fell against the wall and slid down, sobbing uncontrollably and clutching baby Kai to her heart, as though the baby boy could somehow prevent it from breaking.

When Fett was certain I'Lai was well down the exterior corridor, he turned and with full force punched a hole right through the chamber wall.

* * *


	7. And Call Upon My Soul Within the House

DISCLAIMER: I make no money off this and all characters (sans those of my own creation) are the product and property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm, Ltd.

Episode 1

Chapter 7

And Call Upon My Soul Within The House

_Make me a willow cabin at your gate _

_And call upon my soul within the house._

_Write loyal cantons of contemned love_

_And sing them loud, even in the dead of night._

_Halloa your name to the reverberate hills_

_And make the babbling gossip of the air cry out._

_O, you should not rest between the elements of air and earth_

_But you should pity me._

William Shakespeare,_ Twelfth Night_

Not surprisingly, Fett had speedily healed from his injuries and was discharged from the palace infirmary by the galactic week's end. Dr. Him'bron and his unfortunate black-eyed and highly stressed nurse raised a glass of Corellian ale together to toast the event.

He stayed in quarters located in the dimly lit and little used southern wing of I'Lai's estate—he had been offered larger and more luxurious accommodations, but preferred the south wing for its lack of direct sunlight and its distance from I'Lai's suite. I'Lai had been true to her word in promising him anything he needed or wanted, for whatever he requested was provided almost immediately. Staying true to his Spartan-like nature, Fett's requests were minimal. He ordered only a firm cot and a table with chair. He did request a few items to be brought from his ship, including the strange little round device that played the horrible ear-splitting music and some clothing, all of which had to be inspected and cleared by Orri Prime's Security Chief, Lando Calrissian.

Appointing a guard to cover the morning post had proven next to impossible for Lando, for no one seemed capable of keeping up with Fett's daily fitness regimen. Once he had completely healed, Fett initialized an agonizing routine of running for hours at a time, climbing cliff sides, and lifting dead tree logs and small boulders. Lando was finally forced to eliminate an actual guard and instead had Fett fitted with a homing bracer to track his whereabouts outside of the palace. 

When he wasn't in his quarters, he could usually be found in the palace's rather impressive library. There he had access to a holovid and the holonet as well as infinite databooks.

Though no one ever used the term in regards to Fett, he was proving himself a model "prisoner". He had made absolutely no attempt to escape. He actually treated his guards with quiet--if begrudging-- respect. After several weeks without incident, Lando dropped the round-the-clock security and had a guard posted outside of Fett's quarters only at night. 

Although the palace's atmosphere seemed calm and collected on the surface, those who lived and functioned in it knew otherwise: To say there was tension between Boba Fett and I'Lai was to say that Jabba the Hutt had had a little weight problem. In the three months following their last conversation in his infirmary room, Fett had not spoken one word to I'Lai. 

For weeks afterward, I'Lai had extended invitation after invitation, either through Nikoa or his guards, for him to join her for dinner. Every night, his place at her table remained unoccupied. She asked Nikoa everyday, sometimes two or three times, if he had visited Kai's nursery. Every time, Nikoa sadly shook her head. After a while, I'Lai ceased to send invitations and no longer asked Nikoa about possible visits.

She tried to alleviate the heartache of Fett's rebuffs by filling her days with constant work and doting endlessly on her son. Besides dealing with the grueling demands of running a planetary mining operation and caring for an infant, she was also training via holographic communications with Luke Skywalker in the ways of the Force. 

Luke had taught her a great deal in regards to controlling her natural power and honing it. They had both agreed that I'Lai would excel far better as a Jedi shaman rather than a warrior, using her powers to heal, teach, and provide spiritual inspiration.

But though her bustling days provided her temporary distraction, her nights were another matter entirely. 

Every night, after spending vast hours cuddling, feeding, playing with and reading to Kai, she would lay him down in his crib for sleep. She would then retire to her own suite, lay herself down in her huge bed, and, fingering the empty pillow next to her, would cry herself to sleep.

Little did she know that her cries did not go unheard.

At the same time every night while the rest of the palace slumbered, Boba Fett would stand in the darkened corridor and, through the nursery portal, gaze at his infant son sleeping peacefully in his crib. He would then move down the hall to I'Lai's door, sit on the floor leaning his head against it, and listen to her cry.

One night Burl, Fett's miner-turned-night guard and traveling companion on these visits, finally broke his silence after weeks of this. "Why don't you just go in there and talk to her already?"

Fett merely looked up at Burl from his seated position against her door and muttered, "Why don't you just shut up and do your job?"

The following day would prove to be much different than those tense and sad days past.

Fett had completed yet another punishing regimen, showered, and changed into a fresh shirt and trousers. He was now sitting in the library in front of the holonet screen trying to catch up on galactic current events. Every day, more planets, systems, and guilds publicly denounced the Empire and declared their loyalties to the New Republic. The Imperial code of censorship seemed no longer feared or viable, for every day there were countless new accounts broadcasted detailing the Empire's crimes and cruelty against the masses of the galaxy.

But there was one news byte in particular that caught Fett's undivided attention. The headline read, "Gangster Jabba the Hutt Found Dead, Bounty Hunter Boba Fett Presumed Dead."

He continued to read the article as it stated that he was last spotted on Tatooine in the company of Jabba the Hutt. The Hutt's pleasure barge containing his rotting corpse had finally been found in the middle of the Dune Sea, surrounded by the skeletons of his guards and guests. The article went on to say that although Fett's body had never been recovered, pieces of the notorious bounty hunter's jetpack were found at the scene and it was surmised that he had perished within the gullet of the Saarlac and his ship stolen from Jabba's palace.

Fett wasn't sure whether to laugh or break the screen in half. He did neither. He instead performed a hack around the computer's security codes to allow him outside access. Once he cracked the system's fortress program, he punched in the codes of the scores of credit accounts he had littered all over the galaxy which he had opened under dozens of aliases. He breathed a light sigh of relief to see his fortune was still safe and intact.

_Thank the Slayer for bribe-happy bankers and fake IDs_, Fett mused. 

He switched back to the article and stared at the screen, tapping his finger against the table. This wasn't the first time Fett had been written off; he had been fodder for the holonet's rumor mills for years. And very often, when he would take his excursions to the ass-backward outer rim of the galaxy no one had even bothered to chart and be gone for months, the net would practically buzz with the several hundred versions of his ghastly demise. And every time he was thought dead, he would miraculously reappear to bring in another high-priced, high profile bounty and only elevate his legend of being unkillable and unstoppable.

But this time was different—and aggravating. This time he could not orchestrate his rise from the dead on his own accord. It would have to wait until his jailers thought him fit to release.

Then another thought crossed his mind…since the holonet news was reporting him dead, that meant Leia Organa and the other Rebels had told no one of his internment on Orri Prime. Strange. One would think the Rebel leaders wouldn't pass up the opportunity of informing the galaxy that they had captured and imprisoned its most ruthless and infamous bounty hunter, but obviously they did. This puzzled Fett, but not to distraction. Dismissing it, he shut down the computer console.

He would become far more distracted outside the library door.

He squinted as he stepped into the sun-drenched white marble corridor; although they were still sensitive, Fett had somewhat succeeded in adapting his eyes to brighter light. He was about to head back to his quarters when he heard the door at the far end of the corridor open. The door was that of I'Lai's place of work. He would usually force his attention away and keep walking, but not this time. Besides hearing the voices of I'Lai and Nikoa, he heard another—that of Lando Calrissian.

He turned and glared down the hall. I'Lai and Lando were walking out into the corridor, talking and laughing a bit. He could see I'Lai was holding a squirming Kai upright against her breast, his tiny feet poking and kicking against her. It was then he saw Lando turn and, smiling, reach toward her with both hands. I'Lai, also smiling brightly, came toward Lando's outstretched hands and very gently handed Kai over. Holding the baby boy from under his arms, Lando lifted him into the air and began making ridiculous faces and noises at the child. Kai wriggled and emitted a high-pitched hiccuppy baby laugh that bounced off the marble walls down the corridor.

Boba Fett gripped the databook he held in his hand so hard he snapped it in half as he began to shake with rage. Tiny shards of the screen and casing fell and tinkled against the marble floor. It was only then I'Lai and Lando noticed him standing at the end of the hall.

Lando slowly lowered Kai as his smile faded. I'Lai looked at Fett with wide, anxious eyes. Lando handed the child to Nikoa as she entered the corridor from I'Lai's office. He turned back toward Fett, and respectfully bowed his head to him. 

Fett stood there for several long moments, holding his vicious glare on Lando, before slowly turning and walking down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

Lando continued to stare down the corridor after Fett as he stated, "I'Lai, that man is a damn fool."

I'Lai sighed. "Lando, don't, please."

He turned to face I'Lai, and she was immediately hit by a myriad of emotions emanating from her friend—resentment toward Fett, sympathy for her as well as…something else. Longing. Longing and regret. Suddenly words formed in her mind, words spoken by Lando's inner voice…

_She deserves better than this. If only…_

Touched by his thoughts and trying not to let him know she had heard them, she stepped toward Lando, reached toward his face, and kissed him on the cheek. "Go on. I'll see you for next week's security briefing."

Lando left for his shuttle. Nikoa took Kai back to the nursery, and I'Lai went back into her office.

A few hours passed. I'Lai had been trying to concentrate on the newest supply orders that had come in that morning, only to become frustrated and distracted by the incident in the hall. She was rubbing her fatigued eyes when Nikoa scurried in through the door, shaking with quiet excitement.

"Lady I'Lai—I mean, I'Lai," Nikoa stuttered, suddenly remembering I'Lai's request for everyone to drop her former Imperial title from her name, "Come quickly, please!"

I'Lai lowered her hand from her eyes. "Nikoa, I'm a bit busy at the moment—"

"I'Lai, please! Come with me to the nursery!"

The color drained momentarily from I'Lai's face as she snapped out of her chair. "Nikoa, what is it? Is Kai ill?"

"I'Lai, please, just come now! I think you should see this!" Grabbing I'Lai's hand, Nikoa began pulling her down the corridor toward the nursery.

As they entered I'Lai's private wing, Nikoa silently indicated to I'Lai to slow down and stay quiet. As they inched toward the nursery, Nikoa pointed to the portal window. I'Lai looked in, and gasped as she raised her hand to her mouth.

There she saw Boba Fett sitting in the large stuffed chair next to the crib, cradling his infant son in his arms.

She watched him gingerly stroke the little boy's head. She saw Kai reach his tiny hand toward Fett's face. Fett lowered his hand and allowed the baby to wrap his little fingers around his, all the while gazing lovingly down into his son's eyes. All severity and brutality was gone from the bounty hunter's face. His expression was that of peace, contentment, and overwhelming pride.

I'Lai felt her throat constrict with emotion and tears well in her eyes. Nikoa let out a tiny sigh. "Perhaps that was all he needed. A good swift kick in the ass."

"Nikoa!" I'Lai gasped, incredulous at her maid's remark.

"I'Lai," Nikoa whispered as she gently touched I'Lai's arm, "why don't you go in and join them?"

The smile suddenly melted from I'Lai's face as she still gazed through the portal. "No, Nikoa, I…I can't." She turned and walked down the corridor back to her office, repeating through her tears, "I can't…"

* * *

He had seen her. He was certain that she thought he hadn't, but he had seen her watching him through the nursery portal window. He had seen her smile fade from her face and the tears in her eyes. He had seen her turn away. He coupled that image with that of Calrissian daring to lay his stinking hands on his son…

He couldn't stand it anymore. He needed some kind of release. _His_ kind of release.

Fett heard Burl's heavy footsteps approaching his chamber door. As they neared, Fett opened the door and stepped into the hall, facing his guard with his arms folded. 

The first thing he noticed was the reek of alcohol coming off the brawny Orrian and his bloodshot eyes. Fett's lips turned upwards in a sardonic smile. _Of all nights, tonight my guard shows up drunk. Oh Burl, you are making this far too easy… _

"So," Burl slurred as he staggered lightly, "I heard that you're dead, Fett."

Fett shrugged. "Yeah, seems I read that somewhere too."

Burl blew a snort out of his nose. "Big bad ole' bounty hunter, Boba Fett. Everyone afraid of you. You ain't so scary to me." Burl, who was just shy of two meters tall, loomed over Fett as he leaned into his face. "You ain't even tried to escape yet. I think you're just a big candy-ass, and I've thought so all this time! I ain't 'fraid to say it to your face!"

Fett nonchalantly leaned against the corridor wall, a smirk spreading across his scarred face. "You got some balls to talk to me like that, Burl."

"Oh yeah? So what! You ain't got no armor, you ain't got your fancy gadgets! Whaddya gonna do to me, huh Fett? I'm the one with the gun!" He waved the blaster rifle around his reddened face.

"Yes. Yes you are." 

Burl never saw Fett's knuckles strike his trachea like a snake's head. As Burl gasped for air and reached for his throat, another lightening-quick hand came up and under Burl's ribcage, hitting his solar plexus. Burl doubled over, and Fett finished him with a knee strike to his chin and elbow shot to his head. Burl fell sloppily to the floor like a huge sack of raw ore and Fett deftly caught the rifle's strap off the guard's arm and slid it onto his own in one fluid move.

Fett crouched down and ran his hands through the unconscious miner's pockets until he found the keychip to the homing bracer on his wrist. Sliding the chip into a tiny slot, the bracer popped off and Fett tossed it through the open door of his chamber. He casually stepped on Burl's face as he made his way down the darkened corridor toward a palace exit, muttering, "Pleasant dreams, _asshole_."

* * *

The silk of the pillow felt refreshing and cool against I'Lai's cheek as she lay her head down for her night's rest. She still reached over to the empty pillow beside her, as it had now become habit. But tonight she shed no tears; instead, she smiled softly. Fett had held their son for the first time. Perhaps it would only be a matter of time before he held her again in the same loving manner…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound outside. She quickly sat up in her bed, tuning her ears toward the glass garden doors. Had she heard that right? Was it her imagination? Because it sounded like…

Her first assumption was proven correct when she heard the sound again. There was no denying it—that was blaster fire!

She instinctively reached for the emergency comlink next to her bed when she hesitated and pulled her hand back. There was no indication of danger whatsoever emanating from the Force, and she suddenly felt as though she were being guided toward the garden door…

She slipped out of her bed in the darkness and donned her gossamer robe over her nightgown. She opened the garden doors and stepped out into the warm, sweet summer night, skipping down the stone steps of the terrace and moving into the surrounding forest.

I'Lai heard the blasts coming intermittently, just one shot at a time. She followed the sound through the trees along the path softly illuminated by Orri Prime's three small moons. She knew her way well along this path, for this was the way she to the lovely clearing that she sometimes would take Kai on particularly beautiful summer days…

She stopped just shy of entering the clearing, standing behind a large tree, and watched the moonlit figure in the clearing.

It was Fett, shirtless and barefoot and wearing only his black loose trousers. She took a sharp intake of breath when she saw he was brandishing a blaster rifle—but she held her tongue as she then saw a small spherical shape slicing and racing through the air all around him…

The sphere suddenly shot a bolt of energy at Fett. Fett instantly dove out of the way, leaping into the air and folding himself into a tuck as he hit the ground and rolled into a kneeling position. He aimed the blaster and fired precisely at the center of the sphere. I'Lai saw the blast suddenly bounce off what seemed to be a deflector shield surrounding the little orb, protecting it from being blasted into little pieces. 

The sphere shot again, and again Fett rolled out from under its fire and came to his feet. He sprinted toward a tree as it chased him, and I'Lai saw him jump straight up and catch a limb. With amazing speed and strength, he pulled his legs through his arms and clenched them around the branch, releasing his arms and catching the blaster on his shoulder and, while hanging upside down, fired another precision shot at his small mechanical enemy. He let go the branch and flipped himself over to land on his feet, immediately turning and firing another dead-on shot.

I'Lai stood against the tree and continued to watch him battle the sphere as it relentlessly fired at him and he relentlessly fired back. Her mouth gaped in astonishment. She thought that she should perhaps be frightened or unnerved by his quick and lethal performance, but she felt quite the opposite. The moonlight glistened off his sweating body, clearly defining every taut muscle and sinew in his torso, arms, and back. He moved with the deadly speed and grace of some wild predator with the same keen sense of focus. She saw the glint of insatiable determination glitter from his eyes. Rather than being frightened, she found herself breathlessly excited and entranced. To her, he looked like a wild, untamed god.

Suddenly he stopped, reached into his pocket, pulled out a small remote and aimed it at the sphere. The small sphere lowered to the ground. I'Lai saw him look up toward one of the taller trees until he focused on a taminae nest far up in the treetop. She saw him slowly raise the rifle and aim directly at the nest…

"Boba! Don't you dare shoot that nest!" I'Lai cried out from behind her tree.

Slowly and calmly, Fett lowered the rifle. He cocked his head slightly over his shoulder toward her direction and said, "I was wondering when you would pipe up."

I'Lai stepped out from behind the tree, somewhat taken aback that he was actually speaking to her. "How…did you know I was here?"

Fett turned slowly and slung the rifle over his shoulder as he walked toward her. "Lady, you are as graceful as the willows of Alderaan—but you sound like a herd of Bantha when you try to sneak up on someone."

I'Lai's shoulders slumped, and an embarrassed smile crossed her lips briefly before she snapped herself into a firm demeanor. "May I ask where you acquired that weapon?"

"You may want to ask Burl that when he wakes up from his stupor."

I'Lai let out an exasperated sigh; contrary to his claims, Burl had obviously started drinking again. She pointed to the mechanical sphere on the ground. "And where did you get…" She hesitated, frustrated by her lack of weapons' terminology, "…that?"

"A Marksman-H training remote," Fett corrected her quietly. "I got that from my ship."

I'Lai blanched. "You mean…you know where it is?"

He nodded. "I've known for some time. There are few secure computer files I can't crack, I'Lai. I'm very good at acquiring information."

I'Lai stood confused and startled for a moment. She then reached out her hand. "I must have that weapon back, Boba. If Lando else finds out about this, there could be serious consequences."

She saw Fett's expression darken at the mention of Lando's name. Never the less, he turned the rifle around, extending the butt of it to I'Lai. "As you wish, Lady," he said flatly.

I'Lai stared down at the rifle for a moment. She looked back up to Fett. "Actually, there is something I'd like you to do before I take it back."

"What is that?"

"Teach me how to use it. Please."

Fett knit his brows slightly at I'Lai's request. "You mean you've never handled a blaster?"

I'Lai smiled awkwardly. "Weapons training was not exactly in the curriculum of the Courtesan Discipline, Boba."

She saw Fett actually smile a bit at her little joke. "All right, come here." He led her into the middle of the clearing. He moved to stand behind her. "This would not be my weapon of choice. I prefer an EE-3, but this will have to do." He pulled the small remote from his pocket again and adjusted the settings. The training remote floated back into the air and shot about twenty meters away from them. "I've adjusted it so it won't return fire. Hold the butt in the crook of your shoulder, like this, and wrap your finger around the trigger." He wrapped his arm around hers, positioning the rifle correctly in her arm. "Place your other hand under here." Taking her hand, he moved it into its position under the barrel. He gently pushed her arms upward. As he did, the training remote projected a circle of red light in front of it. "Now, line up the target in the scope, and gently squeeze the trigger."

I'Lai closed one eye as she focused the other through the scope. Her heart beat fast and she could feel her arms shake. Fett, still holding her arms in position, whispered into her hair, "Relax, don't be nervous." 

She took a long, deep breath. She felt herself calm and suddenly intensely focused as she squeezed the trigger…

She jolted back a bit against him as the energy beam blasted forward from the barrel—and hit the target dead center.

Both she and Fett stood and gawked at the remote. "Try it again," Fett said. Again, I'Lai squeezed off a blast that impacted in a perfect bulls-eye.

After a stunned pause, Fett leaned into her ear. "Are you sure you've never done this before?"

I'Lai responded with an edgy giggle. "No, honestly. Beginner's luck, I suppose." 

She turned her face to meet his, and her smile slowly faded as she met his gaze. They stood there against each other, quiet and still. As the pale moonlight delicately illuminated her face, Fett again found himself mildly intoxicated by the fragrance of her hair, the clarity of her bright eyes, the dewy redness of her lips. He slid his hand up her arm, over her shoulder, to gently brush his fingertips along her chin. I'Lai gasped and quivered at his touch, closing her eyes and leaning into his hand. Fett slid his other hand around her waist to rest on her abdomen, now firm again after the birth of Kai. He buried his face into her hair as his hand slid up over her ribs just below her breast. He felt his skin tingle and his blood heat as I'Lai herself felt every nerve ignite with desire and longing…

Suddenly, Fett pulled his hands and backed away. "Lesson's over," he muttered, a trace of sourness in his voice. "I should return to my quarters before your Security Chief revokes my privileges." He paused before adding, "I'm sure he would be more than happy to continue your training." He began to walk toward the path leading back to the palace.

I'Lai felt her anger and confusion peak and could tolerate no more. She spun around and cried, "Why are you punishing me like this?" Fett stopped in his tracks. "Is it because I helped the Rebellion? I only did what I thought was right. Right for our son." Her voice suddenly seemed to catch its own trace of bitterness. "I never pegged you as being so fervently political, Boba."

It was then Fett turned around and walked back toward her, assuming the cold glint in his eyes once again. "I'm not, Lady. My loyalties lie only with those who offer up the highest bounties. Given the choice between a poor Rebellion and a wealthy Empire…well, you can do the math." He stopped just short of her face. "My disgust does not lie with your political convictions, I'Lai, but with the company you have chosen to keep! If I had the choice of three trophies to mount on my armor, they would be the scalps of Solo, Calrissian, and that Jedi Skywalker--and _you_ have collaborated with all three!" His tone turned colder and even nastier. "And they all seem to be quite taken with you, particularly that asinine gambler Calrissian. I can't help but wonder if _they_ have enjoyed a taste of your courtesan talents as well as I—"

Before he could finish, I'Lai slapped Boba Fett full force hard across his face. Her eyes ablaze with anger, she quietly hissed, "How dare you."

Fett stood, only slightly taken aback. He locked glares with I'Lai and suddenly became fully aware of the change in her since the Executor. She was no longer the coy courtesan, trembling with terror of him. She was no longer the property of another man. She stood before him tall and proud, regal and defiant, the ruler of a world, a leader in the Rebel Alliance, and the mother of a strong, healthy son. She was strong, stronger than any woman he had ever encountered. Amongst everything he felt for her, Fett felt a new emotion emerge…respect. He found that he liked this change in her very much. 

He reached up to touch his stinging cheek. A slight smile curved his lips. "Nice strike." He lightly tipped his head in his customary bow. "Good night, Lady." He turned to head back toward the path.

"You have my permission to leave, Master Fett," I'Lai blurted.

Fett stopped and turned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Your permission? How kind. But I thought that was what I was doing."

I'Lai tightly shook her head. "No, I mean you may leave the palace, leave Orri Prime. I will arrange everything for you. I can make it look like an escape."

"Again, very kind of you." He stepped forward slightly. "But you do not have to 'make' it look like anything. As I think I have just proven, Lady," he gestured to Burl's blaster in her hand, "I can leave here anytime I wish."

"THEN WHY DO YOU _STAY_, BOBA?" I'Lai cried out. She could no longer hold her proud stance nor the anguish she had endured for these last months. Her body wracked, and she held a hand to her stomach as she repeated, quietly and tearfully, "Why do you stay…?" She threw the blaster to the ground at his feet and turned away. Sobs strangled her throat, and she walked hastily into the moonlit woods, her gossamer robe catching the breeze like the wings of a dove.

She had gone just a few meters into the trees before leaning into the trunk of a tree, folding her arms over her face to muffle the intensity of her sobs. _I was wrong about him, _she cried in her mind_. He is just a cold, heartless mercenary…I've been such a fool…_

She suddenly jumped, startled by a hand gently touching her hair. She turned slightly to see Fett standing beside her, leaning his shoulder against the tree and gazing at her with soft, apologetic eyes. She never heard him coming up behind her.

He smiled softly. "_That_ is how you sneak up on someone," he murmured. He moved his hand from her hair to delicately touch her chin, never averting his gaze from hers. He sighed lightly as he said, "You ask me why I stay, I'Lai." He cupped her cheek. "Why do you think…?"

Although I'Lai knew that Fett was not a Force-sensitive, he seemed to have developed a mental ability that blocked such beings from his thoughts and emotions. He now lowered that wall, and I'Lai gasped from the intensity of the feelings coming from his heart. She felt awash in warmth, care, and his desire for her. She felt his extreme pride, adoration, and devotion for his Kai. She also felt a tinge of uncertainty and confusion coming from him as he dealt with emotions he had never allowed himself to experience before…

He reached for her hand and placed it on his bare chest over his heart. His tone was again simple, quiet, without strong emotion. "Is this what it feels like, I'Lai? To care so deeply? To love?" 

Her lip trembled and her eyes sparkled with the dew of joyous tears. "Yes, Boba."

He lowered his gaze for a moment as he considered these feelings. "This feels…strange. But not…unpleasant." With that, he reached his hand behind her head and pulled her closer. He kissed her, sweetly and tenderly.

I'Lai welcomed the kiss she had been craving for so very long. As tears streamed down her face, she wrapped her arms around Fett's neck, pulling him even further into the kiss, into her very soul. Fett encircled her lithe form in his arms and crushed her against him as his hunger for her was finally sated.

He lifted her into his powerful arms. Wordlessly and effortlessly, he carried her across the clearing, all the way up the path back to her chamber terrace. When they had reached the glass doors to her suite, I'Lai closed her eyes and commanded the doors to open.

It was then she met Fett's bewildered eyes. With a deep breath, she whispered, "I am a Force sentient."

"I know," he replied softly.

She looked at him with enormous eyes. "You…do?"

He nodded. "That means Kai is too, doesn't it?"

Her breathing staggered for a moment. "And you…don't mind?"

He carried her into her bedchamber, gently setting her down next to the bed. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he stared into her eyes. "I do not fully comprehend this sorcery the Jedi call the Force," he whispered, "but I do know it can harness great power. I know that you will use this power well I'Lai, as will Kai." He brushed her neck with his lips and added, "I have accepted it."

His hands slid down her shoulders, brushing the robe and the thin straps of her nightgown down her arms. I'Lai leaned back her head, offering her long throat to Fett's mouth as his hands tenderly stroked her breasts. Her light clothing silently dropped to the floor, leaving her standing nude and breathless in Fett's arms. He ran his coarse hands down her graceful back as she caressed his scarred shoulders and chest, running her slender fingers through his hair. Slowly, he leaned forward into her, gently easing her back until she was lying on the bed. He pressed himself against her, finding her mouth with his once again and enveloping it a long, deep, passionate kiss.

I'Lai felt herself aflame with desire and need for him. He continued to caress every inch of her creamy satin skin, stroking her sides, briefly resting his hand on her hip before reaching for the flesh of her inner thigh. He moaned in her ear as she gasped at the touch of his fingers inching upwards…

She let out a cry of desire wrapped in a sob of joy. Her hands moved down his back to tug at the waistband of his trousers. He pushed himself upwards, holding her eyes in his own as she brushed his pants down and over his hips.

I'Lai opened herself to him in all ways, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. She lifted her legs to wrap around the small of his back. Fett held her gaze, never averting his eyes, only shutting them briefly as he entered her gently, delicately, lovingly. I'Lai shuddered, clenching her eyes closed and pulling him into her even further with her legs, lifting her hips from the bed. He took a sharp breath, and felt himself begin to writhe with the rhythm of her body, etching every detail of her angelic face into his mind, his heart. She reached up and touched his face, brushing his lips with her fingers, running them down his throat, his chest, his hard abdomen.

She arced back her neck, and Fett saw a single tear trickle from her eye. Her breathing became heavy, and he began to feel her entire body tense and tighten, just like his own. He lowered himself down, caressing her neck with his lips, reaching under her back, circling his arm around her waist and pulling her tight against him as his thrusts increased in rhythm and intensity. He suddenly felt an energy encircle them, as though he were bathed in warm, soft white light with no world, no galaxy, no enemies, no other beings except for him and this exquisite, beautiful creature beneath him, around him, and now a part of him…he heard nothing but the soft velvet of her whispers as she breathed his name, over and over…

They remained like that, molded together, moving, writhing, bonded for what seemed to be delicious eternity. But soon, I'Lai's whispers became short, sharp cries, and Fett experienced his own desire begin to peak as well, his muscles pulling taut under his flesh, the sweetness of her becoming too much to bear…

He shuddered, wrapping his arms around her waist, burying his face into her hair as he attempted to muffle his roar of intense pleasure. I'Lai thrust herself up, pulling him in, her nails digging into the flesh of his back, as she too cried out, crying his name as she felt her soul ignite through her muscles to mingle and touch his own.

They both descended back into the reality of the world and the darkness of the bedchamber. Fett lifted his head from her fragrant hair and gazed into her eyes. I'Lai, still breathless, suddenly found herself crying. "Ssshhh…" Fett breathed, wiping away her tears and smiling softly.

She hesitated for a moment until she could no longer hold what was in her heart. "I love you."

Fett stared intently in her eyes, and found he no longer feared this unfamiliar feeling in his heart. "And I you, I'Lai."

They shifted themselves into the comfort of the bed, Fett pulling the silk covers over I'Lai to warm her, and she nestled her head into the crook of his arm. They were quiet for a time. I'Lai sighed deeply before she spoke.

"I won't hold you here against your will, Boba. You may leave whenever you wish."

Fett turned and gazed into her eyes. "What about the Rebels?"

She met his gaze. "I will speak with them. Just promise me you will leave Han and the others be."

Fett pondered this request, then nodded. "If they will leave me alone, I will do nothing to them. I am a man of my word." He shifted to lean on his elbow. "I can't stay much longer, I'Lai. I have many enemies. Most of the galaxy thinks I am dead, but it will be only a matter of time before someone finds out I'm here. It could be very dangerous for you and Kai. Understand this, I'Lai--no one must know that Kai is my son."

I'Lai dropped her eyes a bit, and nodded. "I understand, Boba."

His face suddenly softened a little and he stroked her face. "But I will return, I'Lai. I won't leave you and Kai alone here for long." He leaned over and brushed her lips tenderly with his.

I'Lai smiled, and laid her head on his chest. Soon, the beckon of sleep called to them both, as they lay wrapped in each other's arms in the stillness of Orri Prime's summer night.

EPILOGUE

I'Lai's and Fett's breathing soon joined in unison as they slumbered entwined around each other. The faint light of summer early dawn lightly kissed the skies, barely illuminating the dark figure standing on the garden terrace as it peered through the crack of the glass door's curtains…

The figure turned and silently stepped down the stone stairs, moving into the woods and traveling down a faded and seldom-taken path. As the early morning light increased, the figure pulled its hood further over its face as it moved quickly toward its destination.

The figure came upon the foot of a jagged cliff, a cliff Fett usually climbed in his early morning regimen. It moved hurriedly along the cliff's face until it disappeared into a small crevice.

The crevice led the figure into a cramped, narrow tunnel. The shrouded form navigated the tunnel as though it had traveled this space many times before until it came upon a low, black chamber tucked deep within the cliff.

In the center of the chamber was the black, slick casing of a holographic projector. The figure knelt before the projector and passed a hand over its electronic eye, patiently waiting. The chamber lit up somewhat as the image of another black-shrouded figure flickered into denser focus, a hood covering its face as well.

A voice emanated from the holograph, a low, resonant, male voice. "Welcome my treasure, my beloved disciple."

The figure kneeling raised its hands and peeled the hood back from its visage, revealing the lined face and gray hair of Nikoa. She bowed her body down to the floor. "I am humble before you, my dearly loved and most sacred Master."

The image raised a black-gloved hand toward the kneeling Nikoa. "I commend you on your strength and fortitude during this, the Sith's darkest hour."

Nikoa only raised her head slightly in the holographic presence of her dark priest. "My faith has not been tainted, my Lord. The Order will rise again, for it is your wish, your command."

The image lowered its hand. "Have they…reconciled?"

"Yes, Master." She rose slightly to rest on her knees, her head still bowed. "Although, precious Lord, you could see that yourself with your vast powers."

"I cannot bear to watch her…_couple_ with another man, no matter how necessary it is." There was an edge of torment, of great need in the voice. "It pains me that I am unable to father our progeny myself, but must rely on this…_breeder_ to do it for me." He uttered the word in revulsion.

"But there will be more children, more sons to carry on your name and greatness, my Lord." Nikoa hesitated before she broached the subject weighing on her mind. "But I must warn you, Lord, that I'Lai will not be easy to turn. Lord Vader tried—"

"_VADER WAS SLOPPY AND DISTRACTED_!" The voice roared, almost shattering Nikoa's ears. "And Palpatine was a fool, a despot who lusted for power and riches only! I knew it would only be a matter of time before his lusts and greed would mark his downfall. He was not _true_ Sith. After all these years, I see that now…" The voice lowered back to its cool, velvet tone. "They did not know her. They have not watched her since the day she was born, they did not…love her." The black-clad hand moved over to the area where one's heart would be. "I know her. I will give her everything she desires, all that she desires."

Nikoa reached to her eye and wiped a tear from her cheek. "I only wish I will still be here to witness the great event of your joining, Master. I hope I will be able to see the day that the galaxy bows before you, with I'Lai as your Serene Empress and her sons as your noble heirs."

"I will promise you a long life, that you shall see the great day when it comes. For you know well, Nikoa…" the Figure raised its hand to uncover the unmistakable horned crest of the Zabrak, his scarlet and ebon tattoos glistening in the holograph's luminance, his red-yellow eyes burning savagely, his lips curled in a twisted, malevolent smile, "I have nothing but time…"

THE END OF EPISODE ONE


End file.
